ã€ŠThe Way of Sagesã€‹


 Chapter 1 | Rythmn

    Jusuf had made me go. He said I should rejoin the keep''s training after I whined for the sixty-seventh time- he kept count, which I told him surprised me as I didn¡¯t think he knew numbers that big- about the books Velma was making me read at the tomes.

    Really, he didn¡¯t make me, he lured me. Spinning tales of brawn and heroics, mourning how far I¡¯d fallen since our gutsy childhood, and how weak I¡¯d gotten. I went to prove him wrong. Foolishly.

    When we arrived we trained with the silvers and I struggled to keep up. I was stuck staring at backs from the start, and made to eat their dirt by the end. I earned myself more than a few names, none good.

    I didn''t finish the track until most of everyone else had moved on to combat, so I left. But Jusuf found me. He quoted Deante- one of my preferred old thinkers. Whatever the words, they roused something in me, a grin stealing my lips from their frown.

    ¡°You actually read the Cataclysms?" I asked him. "I only gave it to you for a lark, thought it might help you learn proper Yoren.¡±

    He had feigned offense, and we''d shared a chuckle. That''s all it took to bring me back the next day. Today.

    A morning peach painted the sky while I eyed my feet squirming on the rocky grassland.

    I was one of the first to arrive. We called it the bowl, a clearing at the centre of Randy, the forest at the edge of the village. Trees surrounded us in a rough oval. No matter which way you looked, the leaves and branches would queue, stacking to block your vision. When I first came here, long ago, the foliage posed intimidating questions about the unknown. But now, amongst peers, they felt the most familiar.

    As time passed more people trickled in. A large group of maybe a hundred of us had already formed. All boys from the keep or sons of villagers. Many of the older boys I knew by face, if not then by name. Still, I felt out of place. It had been a while since I¡¯d trained, and yesterday suggested maybe too long.

    The boys were all young, fiery and dirty. Stringy muscle could already be seen to shape below their murky skins, some of them were dark and some fair, but all still yet discolored by labor and hard-work. My skin was brown from birth but at its darkest couldn¡¯t match the scars of most the chalk-skinned folk.

    Just after the last few stragglers arrived, five burly men followed, each well into their thirties. They had stomachs that looked like they had been full forever, rough cut trousers, and stained tops. Yet two of them had more, their strength showing through their fat. Dense arms and heavy steps cleared their path. They were both past Templars, resigned to a quiet life in the village. Albeit just lesser knights, their presence was still heights above the other three.

    The five of them were all just orphan keepers. They were the people me and Lunar grew to despise at the keep. Although I could not recognise one of them, my hate was quickly rekindling with my return to training.

    The largest of the Keeper¡¯s stepped ahead of the rest to address the crowd. His voice carried over the youthful chatter with ease.

    ¡°Line up you scum, no time to waste! Chop chop, before I get a swipe at yah. Eight and younger, to the left, then nine ta eleven and twelve ta fourteen, all those fifteen an sixteen follow Gruf an Benlor, they¡¯ll give ya¡¯a good working all right. If anyone coughs up blood this time imma knock some more outta ya.¡±

    He stared us all down as we shuffled into place. While Jusuf and I tried to slot into the back of the silvers- kids beteen thier twelth and fourteenth year- the keeper¡¯s voice, Vam, rang again.

    ¡°Jusuf, you and Los come ¡®ere.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t seen Jusuf until now, though I was confused how I could ever miss him. He was amidst a bundle of other urchins, all looking to be about twelve, looking at him with the kind of reverence due for kings. I noted how those same eyes looked like they knew nothing but disdain just yesterday. The yutes were starting to drift towards the silvers at Vam¡¯s word but many lingered, gripped by Jusuf¡¯s theatrics. I waited them out, each of them were tinder I feared I could light to mock and jeers. But my patience was growing thin, I could not tell if Jusuf hadn¡¯t heard Vam or was ignoring him, I did not want to risk the latter. With a bit of angst, I rushed over.

    ¡°What do you think he wants?¡± I asked Jusuf, pulling him from his one-man show.

    I heard grumbling from the crowd he''d made, but Jusuf quitened them. Hedid not appreciate my concern. ¡°I was just about to describe how I handled Lex last night, one of his goons tried snatching my-¡±

    ¡°Ju,¡±

    He rolled his eyes and cast me one of his mischievous smiles. ¡°To say hi? Reuniting with you, an old friend.¡±

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°Hahaha, Okay, unlikely. No need for the funny faces either, it¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Nervousness often squeezed my emotions out, forcing them to leak onto my face, at the same time I¡¯d get too wrangled up being seized by my nerves to watch my appearance, leading to a lot of awkward encounters. I shaked the worry off of my expression, ¡°Ju, we burnt his hair off. He was practically trying to give me and Lunar away for free after that, You¡¯d have been gone too if he didn¡¯t think your biceps were bigger than your brain,¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve grown a lot, haven¡¯t they? Lunar keeps slipping me meats the butcher¡¯s kid keeps giving ''er, I think I¡¯ll be able to match some of the embers soon.¡± He winked.

    I tried to hold on to my concern but I couldn¡¯t help but laugh.

    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s so funny? I could at least take that pretty boy you tutor! What was it¡­ Edwardio?¡± Jusuf grouched.

    ¡°Edric," I said, rolling my eyes, "Vam¡¯s gonna throw a fit if we don¡¯t get to him fast, let¡¯s go,¡±

    ¡°Ah, yeah." he reacted as though he had already forgot, "Let¡¯s.¡± he turned, giving no haste towards the trip to Vam, yet I followed in tow, trying nudge him forward along the way.

    I wasn¡¯t sure if Vam was berating or ordering the kids with him. He was with the youngest of the group, the rusts, but everyone just called them the runts.

    Vam couldn''t keep up with the older kids. He was approaching forty now, that wasn''t old, the few knights of the village were all beyond seventy, the age of retirement for most. But when your bones creaked like his you''d worry.

    ¡°Who said ya could join us again, Los?¡± he growled. His voice deep and tired.

    ¡°No-one said I couldn¡¯t," I tried. "I never really left the traini-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t run your mouth just ¡®cos ya in that wench Velma¡¯s care now boy, Just ¡®cos she treats ya a bit ta good don¡¯t mean I¡¯m gonna,¡± he spat. Vam eyed me heavy, testing for a response. When none came, he continued. ¡° I Saw your piss poor showing yesterday, my ma old ma could have done better. All ¡®dem books gone made ya soft, you¡¯ll train with the bronzes.¡±

    I started for a response, but I knew Vam. He never swayed through words. All he respected was action. I think that¡¯s why he never really tried to get rid of us. Me, Lunar and Jusuf brought movement. Besides, I wasn¡¯t fully sold I could handle the fire I faced yesterday again. At least this allowed me to warm to the heat.

    I was too ashamed to look towards Jusuf. He was probably about to get punished for bringing me here too. I creaked my head towards him, readying to see the same tense eyebrows that always showed when he tried to control his disappointment, the ones I had seen plenty from bailing on his ideas that would, without a doubt, get us in trouble. His face was still, his mouth slightly agap as though in shocked, but there was something wrong about his eyes, they didn¡¯t match anything else in his expression, I could not tell what it was, but they felt wrong.

    ¡°Jusuf, Benlor liked what he¡¯s been seeing from ya, I don¡¯t get it, but he wants you with the older boys, go ta the golds, don¡¯t let it get to ya head or you''ll fall to dirt, like your good friend Los ¡®ere,¡± he afforded himself a small chuckle, likely relishing the sight of my miserable attempts to keep up yesterday. Then he looked back to his group, giving us a wordless dismissal.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    A coldness took me. That was probably why Jusuf looked off, he was disappointed. It may have been pity or disgust, but I couldn¡¯t bare to face him further and see.

    A large hand clasped my shoulder, then I heard the fullness of Ju¡¯s voice, ¡°Szen amour.¡±

    We made a language when we were nine to speak in secrets around Lunar. I had constructed it, complete with ticks and signals, knocks and cues for if ever we couldn''t talk but could hear. when I tried teaching Ju, he had no trouble learning it, but he grew too bored too quick to keep any of it in him. We had to settle on a core few words, sounds and signals, and somehow he made those few sounds take on all meanings needed. It was almost poetic, atleast more so than my speech. I always knew exactly what he wanted to say, or at least I thought I did.The words wern''t a consolation but let my spirit liven.

    All of the boys had set up as Vam commanded. As the clearing was quite spacious, each group was separated by around fifty goms. Jusuf and I walked down the front making our way. I expected him to still be laughter and smiles, but Jusuf had drawn into himself.

    ¡° You¡¯re gonna get better training, why the silence?¡±

    Ju''s face winced, ¡°I just remembered, you really should have listened to my story, L. Lex, the one who tried stealing my food, he''s sixteen years.¡±

    ¡°You annoyed one of the golds?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t annoy, I humiliated."

    "Let me guess, there was a crowd, you had to prove your manliness or some spores crass like that," I rolled my eyes.

    "I have a reputation, I''m deeply respected, and Julia''s little brother was watchin-" Ju shaked his head. "It doens''t matter why, it was right in front of Lex''sgoons, they would have tried to jump me if it wasn¡¯t for the keepers watching in the meal room, I¡¯m not worried about him or the shitty ash in his gang, they¡¯re all like eleven anyway, but if he has friends in gold¡­ they could gang up on me.¡±

    I patted him on the back softly, ¡°That''s not gonna happen Ju, Benlor and Gruf are there," I said, trying to say something useful to him, I was about to try and slot my own attempt at our language, it¡¯d been a while, I didn¡¯t see Ju as much as I used to so the words where obscure in my mind. Do I use hubrick or return the szen? I had to condense the sentences to words I remembered he was familiar with ofcourse. My mental debate was interrupted when I¡¯d finally processed Jusuf¡¯s words, "Wait, did you say eleven?¡±

    We had just gotten to the bronzes, the second group from the left. There were twenty boys squared together, arms tight by their sides and legs taut. my bamboo limbs raised me at least a span too tall compared to them. Already I saw certain eyebrows twitch at our arrival. Five or so. Only one set seemed belligerent, the rest cautious, Jusuf seemed to have gained respect for more than just his stories and bravado. Or maybe it was fear.

    ¡°Haha, oh yeah. Those ashen are all gonna cock with you in bronze now. Oh, don''t underestimate them, they''ve started training their pyre,¡± said Jusuf, already walking away.

    "wait, what?" I tried talking to him as he left but he just walked onwards without looking back, head up and chest out, a complete twist to a moment ago.

    I knew words were beyond him now and I didn''t want the futile puzzles that came with trying to understand him. He was too focussed on Lex to care about all else. But the last time I saw him like that we ended up having to clean the latrines for a week.

    It was odd for the group of bronze to be so organised with no keeper present. But like string unravelling from yarn, the longer he took the less ordered the kids became. I could already hear whispers and chatter surfacing.

    Between voices I heard more malice, hushed tones. I¡¯d normally blend in, but here I was an oddity with too many variables for the other kids not be drawn to. I even heard some of yesterday¡¯s profanities, meaning news travelled quick.

    The keeper seemed to take forever, when he arrived, he was carrying twenty sacks. He had them stacked high on his shoulders yet still moved with ease. I¡¯d snuck to the back of the squad but still stood out. With one too few bags brought, it seemed he hadn''t noticed me though- or he didn¡¯t care.

    I didn¡¯t recognise him, but I¡¯d seen him yesterday. I bet Vam convinced one of the men from the bar. Probably to lighten his load. Smaller groups, less effort.

    But the kids roused to attention as soon as they saw him. The man looked young and plump, he wouldn¡¯t have looked like a man at all if wasn¡¯t for his thick, inky beard. He had managed to carry twenty sacks alone, as well. Not even Jusuf could have managed that. Considering the keeper¡¯s poor physique, he probably had more pyre than a bumpkin from the village should.

    Who was he?

    When he spoke, the words seemed to project by themselves, ¡°Ten laps boys. The usual. And the last five of ya go for five more.¡±

    There was a slight grumbling from the group but nothing much. They filed to the bags, each grabbing one from the keeper. They slumped the bags over their shoulders like you would a person, the bags still large to their frame. They all seemed to half under the force, making our height disparity now comical.

    When me and Jusuf had trained as bronzes we had Vam. He¡¯d make us carry sacks too, but by twelve they felt like just wearing an extra layer. It was meant to simulate wearing Armor, so when some of us tried for the Templars we¡¯d fair better. The sacks we had today seemed extreme though. Back then there were no Rusts, we¡¯d started carrying our sacks as young as six while training in Bronze. Just dragging the sacks for our laps. From how strained some of the elder boys were these were heavier. By a lot.

    Regardless, I¡¯d trained here before. My power and movement having grown to compete with the elder boys of my time before I left with Velma. I could have even handled a silvers while still a bronze. I still felt confident in my strength. It¡¯d only been a few years and the bags couldn¡¯t be much worse. Yesterday was too much too fast that¡¯s why I failed. I could handle this.

    As expected, when I went there were none left. All twenty taken. The keeper looked at me with engaged eyes. Like I was a sword that needed cleaning, rather than a person. I didn¡¯t speak out of turn. Vam was beyond help, but bad first impressions lasted.

    After a moment he said, ¡°Run it backwards, hands behind your back.¡± And walked to the rest of the boys, ready to start the run. I was left at a pause.

    The instructions were more a punishment than training. Everyone with sacks, getting stronger, and me running backwards? like I wasn¡¯t already out of place.

    I didn¡¯t know how to line up for the run. Do I start backwards or forwards? How fast should I go? I tried to reason the faster strength attrition that would result from using foreign muscles but eventually just gave up.

    ¡°Even the great sages had to start at the body, if your physique is weak what more your pyre? Don¡¯t fail yourselves,¡± the keepers voice sounded. With that the kids started running. Forward.

    Their pyre? I thought Jusuf was joking when he said they¡¯d trained in it. I looked around and thought about what I¡¯d missed before. The silence when he talked. The implicit understanding. these kids seemed to idolise this man. Even now there was no words shared, just attentive steps and steady breaths.

    My feet awkwardly tried to find a rhythm, launching me backwards in turn. It didn¡¯t take long for my calves to heat. Around half a lap in there was a tight warmth inside them.

    After two laps around the oval I was still at the back. My breath synching with my step now though. Exhaling on my left, inhaling on my right. I felt a certain flow build up with the rhythm. An intangible strength to my feet.

    Three more laps in and I''d almost caught up with the main pack. I¡¯d somehow been gaining speed, lap by lap, while theirs waned.

    My legs felt weak but different too. They felt more mine with every step. Physically, they felt unreliable. But there was a power to familiarity, it was subtle but building. I wanted to question it but it all felt natural. Like this was how my body was meant to be.

    We¡¯d been running for twenty minutes now and you could tell. Slouched shoulders and descending knees plagued more and more the further to the back of the pack you went. Being faced backwards, I could see it take people one by one. There face resolute but their bodies treacherous. This was more intense than two years ago, with me and Jusuf. Anyone from the main pack here likely would have beat us. I was really starting to appreciate having no weight.

    I wonder what changed with the training? I looked to the start and saw the keeper nearby, flat on his back on the grass pointedly admiring the sky. This was his doing? I didn¡¯t know what to make of the man.

    Having my hands behind my back made it so balancing was a mental game. An intuitive one, but still another charmer egg boiling. But now even that was being lost to my feet. They¡¯d balance, and push, with more and more autonomy. The more I ran the more they felt whole. It was like when Velma taught us to pen Yoren with our weaker hands, my right hand gained parity with my left. It also felt more attached to me: each stroke, each step, a sewing. More there in a way I didn¡¯t know it wasn¡¯t before.

    Clipping of heels and with a thud I found my arse digging into the ground. My fall came with knees to my face and some untraceable kicks. I was too busy protecting my head. I ended up managing a backwards roll leaving me lying flat on the mud. The trip may have been accidental but I knew the kicks were not. There was too much force to them. I¡¯d yet to do anything to any of those boys, why this?

    They all seemed too reverent of the keeper to mess around. I looked towards the start again, were the man should have been, but this time found only three boys leading the pack approaching it. Among them was the guy whose black eyes cast me the evil look at line-up. He Was already looking my way. His sharp features losing any innocence held by his youth.

    I probably fell due to one of Lex¡¯s goons and I bet he¡¯s one of them too. If it was yesterday, I¡¯d brush it off. But they were younger than me- and smaller. Anger bubbled inside me. I sprung up. After a quick inspection I felt no injuries, although my arse was tender.

    Left. Right. Left. Right.

    I tried to zone into the rhythm again. But each step felt clumsy. I¡¯d drive my forefoot into the ground too much. Where before my backward steps were like lunges, now they felt precarious and blunt, like they were carried out by hammers. It felt like there was a music before, cheering me to dance, but now I could only find an empty silence.

    My pace had slowed to the point where I was racing to not be last. After three more laps the leading trio lapped me. Not without a snide smile from the Lex¡¯s goon, his long hair somehow finding a way to whip me face on the way past. In the moment after my body acted in accord, everything agreeing to the action, all except my sense of reason, which lagged to slow behind.

 Chapter 2| With A Boom

    Before I knew it, my left leg lunged to where his right would be. Where I expected to meet a heal, I found nothing. Followed by a tug from an escaping foot on the other side of my leg¡¯s follow through.

    I wound up tumbling once more. Made to eat dust for the third time in two days.

    Ashes.

    I stayed on the ground long enough to see a wall of faces, dotted with smirks approach me.

    I couldn¡¯t bring myself to meet anyone''s eyes. Not that many cared, the majority were still too focused running.

    When me and Jusuf ran, two years ago, there was never this intensity. It was just fitness. But even yesterday with the silvers, I saw an almost zealous focus. They didn¡¯t look a lot stronger, but they moved with much more control and power. I was too weak to even realise how much weaker I was. Was it all the pyre?

    I¡¯d heard what it could do for a man. Focus, fuel, strength. But they said we couldn¡¯t train it too young, it corrupted the mind. I only knew of it from books and listening to embers. I knew it as craft. The stuff mages used.

    You¡¯d call it pyre when a man beat a bull or maybe even fell a tree with his hands. and I of people like Edric that trained it as young as eleven. But he had his father¡¯s help, the most powerful ember in the village.

    Common thought still stood against him though. You needed some craft in you to make the knights templar. The old templars from village had always trained the youth and never thought it right to teach it before we turned of age, by them that being fifteen, as golds. ¡®No rush.¡¯ they¡¯d say, ¡®Let the vase shape before you fill it.¡¯ What changed? The keeper?

    Jusuf had trained with them too. Is that how he handled Lex? Why didn¡¯t he tell me earlier about the pyre? I wondered why he brought me at all when he knew I would be this bad.

    For the last few laps, I still struggled finding that same rhythm. I managed to avoid being too close to the back, yet never really caught up with the main group. I wasn¡¯t exactly jubilant to be done though. After running there was combat, and I had too many enemies and knew too little about them and everything else.

    I used to watch some of the golds fights when I was younger. They fought how I¡¯d seen all men fight, just four limbs propelled by fury and fear. Whether it was by the village bar, impassioned by spirit, or when the keepers had to restrain some of the boys in the orphanage, the ones who¡¯d grown cold from abandonment and loneliness, they''d each fight with the same bare fists.

    I¡¯d even seen the fight of men in the circus. They¡¯d come for the annual carnival and stage all the conflicts of man. When they swung they reached further than dogs could leap, their steps and knuckles more precise than dance.

    Often I¡¯d wonder how some men moved so fast. Or reacted so quick. It would be a tiny bit out of character. One punch would have skipped a moment, just enough to catch the assailed off guard. Sometimes, by the bar, if there was a crowd, there would be murmurs of pyre or rarer still, craft.

    I knew what the skilled could do. With pyre great knights like Tabamor could slay dragons and wreaths. They could wrestle bears and race the wind. I knew less of craft but I¡¯d read men tamed fires and commanded the earth, imposing their will on the world.

    When I trained with the silvers last dawn there wasn¡¯t much telling. There was mentions of it before the run, the pyre, but I took it all as boyish fancies. But maybe they were all too fast.

    ¡°Line up. Height order.¡± The keeper¡¯s force was like a gong ringing. Everyone was sent into action, from the smallest boy the line built. The other boys stood were they expected to be and slotted into place as the line shaped. This was practiced. I ended up fumbling my way to the back.

    ¡°With enough leverage you can move the world, but advantages like that are few and far between, the world¡¯s a sadistic mistress boys, best you learn that young.¡± The Keeper casted us a crooked smile and continued, ¡°Exploit any gifts you¡¯re given and overcome whatever else. Matchup tallest and shortest, when I say go, you fight.¡±

    Like a hurricane, the boys scurried around, I stood in the centre of the chaos, riling up with the motion. my heart throbbing like bubbling lava. I had some fears, but I¡¯d yet to see anything too impressive. I could manage.

    ¡°It¡¯s you and me.¡± A boy, that looked too young for even the rusts approached me. He was the one that was first in line, the shortest here. There wasn¡¯t much to his voice, neither fear nor excitement, although his eyes still seemed wary. I recognised him from the race, he finished a bit after me. The sack of weight proving it was more of an opponent than he could handle.

    ¡°Haha, you may just win this one Jasp.¡± I heard a boy jeer from nearby.

    ¡°A runt against a big runt, hah, wish I could just watch,¡± More hollers came. More taunting. And in me, more anger.

    I wanted to put them in their place. Pyre be damned. If we were in the orphanage I might lax his food or take something of his, small sabotages for compensation. Jusuf always wanted to fight my battles, but I preferred acting in the shadows, you made less enemies that way. But right now I just wanted to slam their heads through the mud.

    The boy was two years younger, small, and considering how slow he was with the bag, weak. I had nothing against him so I didn¡¯t want to hurt him. I had to figure out a way to either make him submit quickly or scare him into quitting. Worst case I would injure him on his instep, groin or knees, he was still young so he could recover from any of those with ease but he¡¯d have to think twice before fighting with an injury there. Sternum, solar plexus, kidneys, jaw where all off the table. All the books on combat brought those areas up as vulnerable spots. I wished I read more into how the body was connected, the sleep spots Jackus .L Strauman mentioned could have been useful here if I needed to fight more.

    Everyone set up facing their opponent, leaving a span of space between pairs. We were at the edge of the clearing. I hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the other groups. The golds seemed to have disappeared into the forest, the silver¡¯s too. The rusts were doing exercises at the other side of the clearing. I could hear the familiar scraping of Vam¡¯s yelling from here.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Go.¡±

    I raised my fists ready. But my reflexes were too slow. Before I even had my guard up I¡¯d lost him. I felt a kick on the back of my knee, forcing a grunt out of me and my eyebrows to raise bewildered.

    I tried turning, but only saw a flash and felt an elbow at my gut, doubling me over. I made sure to keep my eyes open and alert, but that may have just been fear. A shove came from my back and I lurched forward. I was going to fall flat again. My shock morphed into frustration as I struggled to answer all the questions flitting through my mind, the most pressing of which being how I would save myself from my fourth soil-y encounter.

    I pivoted on one foot, using my falling momentum to speed my turn, and swung an outside crescent kick. It was a blind and wild move but was all I could muster. To my surprise, I met resistance, my heel colliding with his forearm. He¡¯d blocked, pushing against me in the process. I fell to my back, leaving him now standing in front of me, looking more tired now than when running. What. Just. Happened.

    Sweat sloped his forehead and his eyes looked bleary, but there was still grit to them. I forced myself quickly back up and into a defensive stance,looking more alarmed than combative. He did the same, his movement sluggish. He¡¯s tired? Or is it bait?

    He looked worn. But the fight hadn¡¯t even lasted a minute so far. He¡¯d moved so quick, why would he need to bait me? He moved too quick. Too quick.

    I tested a kick at his legs. And he blocked with ease, but he swiped it away with his arms. Interesting. I noticed his stance now, jagged and unstable. Whatever he had done he likely injured himself doing it.

    He may have just been tired, then I could win by endurance, I was hurt but nothing damning. But that would be a battle of attrition, against a twelve-year-old. Twelve dammit. Lunar would have laughed.

    I sweeped a kick big at his knees. Again he tried to block with his hands. There was a pulse of strength that resisted my leg. It felt wild and strong and desperate. Too powerful for a kid, too brief to stop me. As quickly as it came it went, leaving my leg barrelling through. I almost wanted to celebrate but I realised I had won nothing. He toppled over and I came to my senses, rushing forward to see if he was fine, however I hesitated, deciding only to go as close as an arms span away.

    No words were exchanged. Jasp laid on the ground, took a deep breath, and looked at me with a bored defeated expression like this was nothing new. Within the boredom I saw pity and couldn¡¯t quite understand why. I could see him fight wincing and groaning as he felt around his body, but his lips still fought to stay straight and his eyes steady. He got up and limped away, walking over by the trees to rest.

    I was left alone panting for breath. There had been no bystanders, everyone locked in their own little war. By the time I had recovered there were only a few fights left.

    ¡°There¡¯s a wolf in you, behind those books, beyond words and thoughts, it¡¯s in your nature.¡± A voice said, the words sounded more like a poem or recital but they seemed to be directed towards me.

    ¡°You ever seen it before?¡± The voice came from behind me, this time direct and distinct. I turned to see the keeper. He was not looking at me, instead he stood scanning the other fights. This was my second time being so close to the mysterious man. He smelled a busy kind of rough, like he had worked caves and dungeons in the same dress.

    ¡°See what?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The pyre boy the pyre, I know you felt it when you ran, haha, and the shock in your eyes when little Jasper used it! He''s made some good progress that one.¡± He spoke with a pirate¡¯s charm but an embers brightness, the kind of talk that could chirpse a maiden¡¯s maiden. This time I noticed he had oddly large hands, the kind that you could imagine teased boulders to half, and he had a tight gold ring on his left hand. It was impressive too, it made me wonder how they painted it so convincingly.

    It took me some time to bring together a response to his words. ¡°What is it exactly? How¡¯d I use it... sir?¡±

    ¡°They all know me as Nimor, you might as well call me the same.¡± he said.

    ¡°king of the lost?¡± I murmured, Velma¡¯s drilling of Cenmar seeping out of me.

    He turned to me, letting me see his eyes flash. ¡°It¡¯s a joke my mother had, it translates better as the leader of the losing,¡± he said, giving me a wry chuckle, then with crossed brows asked, ¡°Where¡¯d an urchin learn Cenmar? I didn¡¯t think even embers here would bother learning it.¡±

    ¡°I...I live at the Tomes, Velma taught it to me.¡± when I said Velma I could see a spark of recognition pass through his eyes.

    ¡°Mhhhm¡± He gave a slight nod, and said no more. He turned to the other boys. They¡¯d all finished now and were already beginning to break into talks again.

    Nimor walked away, finding the centre of all the boys. ¡°I saw all the fights. A lot of improvements, more of you using craft than before. Good. Round two. Pick whoever you want. Settle your grudges, I don¡¯t care.¡±

    Most of the boys lit up at his words. I was on a slight high having won my fight, now seeing eyes dart my way, my confidence crashed. Boys partnered up, many laughing as they squared each other up, suggesting they were friends. I noticed many honest rivalries. Giddiness, excitement and respect shown in different measures all around. Then I saw hate. I saw black long hair and pointy features.

    ¡°You¡¯re a friend of Jusuf? Why don¡¯t I recognise you from the Keep?¡± The question came from the long-haired boy who ran with the leading trio. His eyes still sharp. He looked barely worn, even after the running and fighting.

    The orphanage was referred to as the keep for those that only came for the lessons. During the day they¡¯d teach low Yoren, basic reading and writing, and some arithmetic to any boys who got it. Usually it was kids nine and older, but Me and Lunar used to listen in as young as five, Jusuf rarely joining. The literacy helped us steal half a dozen of a baker¡¯s loaf¡¯s once, we mastered forgery, penning a large order from his wife to the ascetic¡¯s tower.

    Those with no families at the Keep stayed, we were usually apprenticed into trades through time or funnelled into the church. Some made the army but few had the skill or support. Supposedly the ascetics offered Vam extra money to train us in body as well as mind, knights earned there village and family extra compensation and considering we had none currently it made sense for the ascetics to invest in the us urchins.

    He tried waiting me out but I didn¡¯t answer the boy. I saw his irritation. He smirked and continued, ¡°Okay, looks like it¡¯s just you and me with no partners, we can talk with fists. We¡¯ll know if you¡¯re friends from Jusuf¡¯s face when he sees you bloody,¡±

    What has Jusuf been doing.

    It was clear that Nimor was about to commence the fights. Again, my heart pounded hard. My palms started sweating. I deepened my breath to calm myself. I couldn¡¯t run. Jasper was enough to alarm me, this was probably not going to go well.

    Nimor¡¯s voice yelled, ¡°Go.¡±

    It all happened too quick for thought. With a boom something crashed across the centre of the clearing. Not something, someone. Some shouts and screams sounded, forcing my heart to pound hard and fast. The air become heavy, and my fear made my vision swim. I felt a need to leave but an even stronger pull to figure out what just happened swayed me, I knew I¡¯d be too anxious if I left and did not. As the cloud of dust that shaped from the crash cleared, I recognised what was the centre of it all. It was one of the ascetics. One of the powerful embers who ran the village now here looking scraggier and bloodier than I¡¯d ever been.

 Chapter 3 | Like a Puzzle

    Ascetics mattered. They were not just the strongest in the village, their strength would be respected even in the city.The boys all ran to the side of Randy we came in through, to the exit of the bowl. It was the only way through the forest with a clear path, but you¡¯d have to circle around to get back to the village. I saw Vam amongst them, it was hard to tell If he was helping or racing the kids.

    ¡°All of you, go!¡± Nimor yelled, jolting into motion some of the slower minded boys. The shout did not come from where I saw him last but I did not care to look, I was still staring at the ascetic. A thunderous drumming was building up inside me, each beat tight on my heart, yet... electrifying. I ran, but not away. I found cover in the nearby trees and watched on.

    Most of the boys were out of sight by now. Nimor ran to the ascetic faster than I¡¯d seen any other man move. The ascetic looked increasingly alarmed as he approached.

    BDOOOSHK

    A tall figure in all black crashed down from the sky, you could see muscles bulge beneath his clothes and he wore a black mask. Moments after landing he sprung towards the ascetic and Nimor, scraping a pit were his feet were, his movement a blur.

    The ascetic was still injured, I saw Nimor step in front of him readying his stance. He was just a keeper. The man in black closed the distance in moments, colliding with Nimor. The impact sent a torrent of wind flowing in all directions. They grappled, mirroring tense and slow locked movements. The man in black was stronger, he led their dance, like a wrench turning both their bodies, trying gain an advantage. But Nimor was like ice: his hands were frozen to the man in black¡¯s shoulders; his frame firm and solid yet his movements slippery, calm and controlled. Before I knew it, my vision was stolen by a flash of fire, an explosion made by one of the two, shaped in mere instances. Then a massive cloud of dust shrouded the fight. When it cleared, I saw the black robed man staggering backwards holding a hand to his face. His black mask had been ripped through, revealing cool blue eyes, and dark black skin, and leaving a wide slash on his face bleeding.

    ¡°Earth craft?¡± the man in black asked. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was true but I thought I heard worry in his tone.

    Nimor didn¡¯t respond. Relaxing back to an easy stance in front of the ascetic.

    The black robed man gruffed, then turned to flee.

    ¡°Get him.¡± The ascetic croaked the words from behind but Nimor just watched the man flee.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± the ascetic sighed.

    Nimor responded with a question, ¡°What happened?¡±

    All the ascetics in the village were at least forty, so the man didn¡¯t take well to being ignored by someone as young as Nimor. He grit his teeth and answered, ¡°He and another, a man with demonic green eyes were found sneaking through the ascetic tower, I chased him through the air then he turned on me, making me fall. We don¡¯t know what he could have done in there! He needs to be caught. You wasting my time here suggests you could be an accomplice, free me now before the other ascetics hear of this nonsense.¡±

    Nimor didn¡¯t look concerned, he idly looked around, as if waiting out a spynma¡¯s growling.

    ¡± I don¡¯t care.¡± He responded. ¡°But I¡¯ll heal you for your robe and shoes, I could probably get a few gems for ¡®em.¡±

    My jaw dropped. He was extorting an ascetic.

    The ascetic looked in bad shape. If Nimor just wanted to steal from him he could have. The ascetic was in disbelief, he cycled through expressions of outrage until it begun to morph into him mauling over the decision, ¡°Have you no respect!¡±

    Nimor sighed and then laughed.

    ¡°¡­at least prove you can help me.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± With a single word Nimor began to leave.

    ¡°Alright, alright!, take em, but heal me.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Nimor walked back to the ascetic and kneeled. I saw him mumble something then his hands turned a warm green. My eyes opened wide.

    ¡°One second,¡± He stopped the green and began undressing the ascetic. He took the robe and shoes in hand then they disappeared. Thinking my eyes lost them In a blink I tried to look for them but they were gone.

    Nimor went back to healing, washing his hands over the ascetic. I couldn¡¯t see any injuries but the ascetic got right back up when he was done.

    The ascetic didn¡¯t thank Nimor. However, a few moments after he left, Nimor followed.

    When things settled, all three men were gone.

    Today was a day of questions. Middawn had yet to even pass. I¡¯d yet to even eat, and I was exhausted.

    The clearing was empty now. Barren and silent. I sat down, still hidden behind the trees stump from the clearing, using the tree to support my back. I rested a short while before more voices came.

    ¡°Where¡¯d you think they gone of ta?¡±

    ¡°Beats me, looked serious tho, one of the two was probably one of the Ascetics.¡±

    ¡°How about Vam and that traveller?¡±

    ¡°You know Vam, probably ran away before even the kids did. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if that Nimor guy was the one fighting the Ascetic, never felt I could trust that one.¡±

    ¡°Shut up Gruf, you didn¡¯t even trust me when you met me, I remember you tried starting that fight in-¡±

    ¡°You slept with my gal.¡±

    ¡°She was a whore, she wasn¡¯t any- it don¡¯t even matter, Let¡¯s head back to the village, Heliar and the others should hear, might be able to catch him before he¡¯s had too many at the bar,¡±

    It sounded like Gruf and Benlor. They must have come back after helping the Golds escape. I raised and stood behind the tree I had laid on, to sneak a glance. I only caught them speeding off back into the village.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you stay,¡± A strained voice came. To my right but behind me. Further into the forest. The voice was shaky yet brash. I turned to see. Long black hair. Sharp features.

    Him again.

    I wasn¡¯t of the mind for petulance. After what I had just seen, everything else just seemed childish now. But he looked more scared than anything else. He probably watched it all too.

    He¡¯s eleven.

    Pyre or no Pyre, he was as helpless as I in all of that.

    ¡°I felt I needed to. I had to see whatever was going on.¡± After a moment I asked, ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± trying a token of good.

    He looked at me dissatisfied then spat back, ¡°What¡¯s it to ya.¡±

    I ignored the defiance and continued, ¡°I¡¯m Los, did you see it all too?¡±

    ¡°Of course, he did, Rake left marks on the tree from how hard he was holding onto it, probably wished he was holding onto to his Mom,¡± Jusuf swooped down from above, gliding the treetops with an apes ease.

    My heart had been racing all this time. To see Jusuf brought it to ease. ¡°You climbed a tree in all of that?¡± I asked, incredulous.

    ¡°If we were gonna watch, I might as well get a good seat, right? Personally, I would have hidden us deeper in the forest, but when I saw you, you looked too awestruck to move,¡± He said.

    Rake wasted no time in our company, with Jusuf¡¯s arrival he bolted towards the same way out that the other bronzes and rusts took.

    What did Jusuf do to him? He even wanted to make enemies of me for it. It couldn¡¯t have just been loyalty to Lex. he looks at Jusuf with too much hate.

    I didn¡¯t want to confront Jusuf about him though, there was more important issues to address. I looked towards Ju as he let out a hearty laugh at Rakes expense.

    ¡°Bronze and above train Pyre now? Why didn¡¯t you tell me before Ju? How long?¡± I thought I was just confused, but my voice came louder than I expected, cutting his humor.

    ¡°An Ascetic gets bloodied by a mysterious man in all black, then forced to sell half his stuff and you want to talk about that? Flames L, even with all the books you got, I think I¡¯m the smart one.¡±

    ¡°Is that why, Jealousy?¡±

    Jusuf¡¯s laugh disappeared, replaced by a hard look. ¡°Aren¡¯t we still brothers Los, what¡¯s there for me to be jealous of? Didn¡¯t you always say you prefer pen over sword anyway? Why would you even want to learn pyre?¡± Jusuf¡¯s tone sounded weird, as though he was humoured. I hated it when he was like this. I could never understand him.

    I could understand if he was jealous. Me and Lunar were practically kicked out of the orphanage by Vam, Jusuf¡¯s combat potential meant he could maybe get into the Templar, meaning a bit more profit for Vam in the long run if he priced him high enough for no one to buy off him.

    We left him at the orphanage, how could he not grow bitter? We still made attempts to see him but it was never the same. Over the past two years we grew further apart.

    ¡°You know we had to leave Ju, I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°I said I¡¯m not Jealous,¡± His voice was colder now, harsh. ¡°Sometimes, you think you¡¯re too smart Los.¡± he held my eyes, ¡°Trying solve everyone, like-¡± Then with a step he blurred, blending into the wind and everything seemed to stop. I felt like I was facing Jasper again. I did not run, but tightened, my body locking itself in fear.

    Fear of Jusuf?

    ¡°-A,¡± Another blur. This time I saw a brief right step taken much closer to me, like the impossible lunges the circus folk done, but with no flair. Just speed.

    ¡°Puzzle.¡±

 Chapter 4 | Friends

    Jusuf was the first friend I¡¯d made at the orphanage. I learned early that he was raised by his father until he died. From village hearsay we managed to piece together it was because of ale, on one rowdy night he¡¯d drunk himself beyond reason, tormented the village with lonely rambles, and then vanished. No one was quite sure where he went. It was the talk of the town. ¡®The King of Drunks never to rule again¡¯. Never to father too. Jusuf was forced into the orphanage at six.

    Then came Lunar. Like me she¡¯d never known her parents, we were both raised by strangers. Unlike Jusuf, she forced her own way out of her old home, proving too much to handle for the holy sisters.

    The Sisters gave up on her. She was too wild. She¡¯d wander out of the village, sneak into the Holy maidens¡¯ rooms, and horde and steal from the other sisters.

    And then there was the story of the house cat. It went missing, only later to be found skin-peeled, innards-splayed, on the Holy Maiden¡¯s kitchen counter. The holy maiden was meant to remain fair and impartial even through her disgust. The Holy sister¡¯s were meant to have endless wards and protections- the Holy Sage ever watching over them. Even though it was absurd, everyone knew it must have been Lunar. The next day Lunar was at the Keep¡¯s doorstep.

    Jusuf when he joined was quiet. He¡¯d talk to no one, too busy staring at the ground to even notice there was a person there. When they realised, they couldn¡¯t approach him, they mocked him. Kids can be cruel. They cursed his father and endlessly prodded at him, like grinding pestle and mortar, trying to break him.

    I started joining him. He wouldn¡¯t speak to me, but I persisted because of boredom if nothing else. Through time he grew less annoyed, less hostile, until we could share comfortable silences. I would often ask him questions, but he would not answer, but sometimes, whether bored of apathy or fallen to childhood nonces, he¡¯d respond to play. Through many games of cards, pebbles, and squares: we bonded. No need for words.

    Then Lunar arrived. Instantly loud and feared. All the kids knew her story. The older ones pointedly ignored her, but the younger ones did everything to avoid her. She only talked when she wanted something or needed to. Like a loose fire eyes followed her. From the village whispers and rumours she¡¯d become known as the witch¡¯s daughter, though no one really knew who her mom was.

    However, she wasn¡¯t whole stone. Through her fiery shroud I often saw clinks. I saw her fumble around, bumping into doorways, dropping forks, her eyebrows clinching close like closing drapes that could never quite meet, seemingly making her ever more frustrated for it.

    once, me and Jusuf were deep into a game of stones, just outside the keep. I¡¯d taken seven of his stones, and he¡¯d captured five of mine. I was about to trade a pebble for a crystal- though we just used salt shavings taken from the butcher.

    ¡°You¡¯re both weird.¡± Lunar said. She had been watching us from a nearby bench. I hadn¡¯t noticed her, and if Jusuf had, he didn¡¯t care. She forced her way into joining us. I was wary, but I taught her how to play. Jusuf maintained his usual nonchalance. The only times he seemed to care about anything was when he ate and when he beat me. The latter always earning a small, but obviously rare, smile.

    It took her five games to do what Jusuf took thirty. She won against me. With that Jusuf warmed to her. Which at the time I took as some barbaric respect hierarchy.

    Through much silence, many games and after a while, conversations Lunar loosened, begun to question and ramble, lecture and riff, even when we tried ignoring her. She was one to cling to few, but bind firm to those she did.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Our friendship cultivated through seasons. Lunar adding colour where I lacked it. She was the one to crack Jusuf¡¯s shell, stringing out more and more words, shining more and more light his way, until he became the boisterous, passionate fool we loved.

    The whistling of a fist in high motion sounded.

    FWOOOOSH!

    Then came deep breaths followed by a steadied voice.

    ¡°You actually thought I¡¯d hit you.¡± Jusuf said in disappointed.

    The words cut through darkness. My clenched eyes slowly loosened, soon after my body followed: he hadn¡¯t struck. Well he¡¯d struck, just not at me.

    His closed fist was firm and stiff over my shoulder.

    I felt a different stiffness now. It¡¯s not that my body didn¡¯t want to move, I didn¡¯t know what to do with it. We stood still together, embracing the silence like we always had, but this one feeling a bit emptier. I felt guilty and wanted to apologise, but I was too confused.

    Jusuf withdrew his fists. The passion I¡¯d always find in his eyes was now a stead, like a fireplace burning easy. ¡°I knew you wanted to learn the pyre, Lunar told me you wanted to try for the testing.¡±

    I wondered how Lunar knew. She had probably spied on me in the tomes when I was reading some of the heavier texts. Was Jusuf afraid I was gonna leave him for the city? Abandon him again?

    ¡°I didn¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Los, I¡¯m not jealous,¡± he sighed. ¡°Lunar told me that a year ago, I was thinking forever about how I could help you, then Nimor came,¡± He said Nimor¡¯s name with more respect than I¡¯d heard him speak for any of the knights, or even the ascetics. ¡°Nimor¡¯s just a traveller, but because he knew how to use pyre, he managed to steal some coin from Vam: the ascetics let him take over the bronze teaching for a few salver. You saw him earlier, he¡¯s incredible.¡±

    Jusuf slowly built up back into his usual rhythm. He¡¯s eyes toking up like a campfire. ¡°They didn¡¯t trust him with the gold¡¯s, Los. I heard gruf was against him risking their futures. The bronzes wouldn¡¯t be too young to teach, but they also weren¡¯t too skilled, so if he flamed it, forcing ''em to start too young, or through any shoddy methods, he wouldn¡¯t waste their chances at making the templar¡¯s, like the Silver¡¯s and Golds. At least they''d be young enough ta learn a trade,¡±

    All of this I¡¯d been too busy with Velma to even hear about. Maybe Lunar had heard some of it, or Jusuf didn¡¯t tell either of us. None of this explained how he¡¯d learned the Pyre though, just my thrashing by the bronzes. But if Nimor never taught the silvers then that just meant I was horribly unfit.

    Jusuf seemed to read my mind. ¡°I learnt the Pyre today with the Gold¡¯s, all of that. Three good steps are about my limit, but I''ll train. Should ¡®ave seen Gruf¡¯s face when I done it, I planned for you to learn it too. At the same time. That¡¯s why I brought you yesterday, I knew you would probably be put into bronze and to make it more convincing you belonged in bronze rather than silver, I had held back until then too, making our skill difference look even bigger. They saw how good I was and how slow you were. I was raised to gold, you lowered and we both should have begun learning pyre, Lunar told me the testing needed that.¡± He sounded proud.

    He cared this much?

    He tried to help me out even when it meant for me leaving him. And he planned it all? Jusuf was rash and rarely planned. I was speechless. Then I remembered I even grilled him for jealousy.

    Flames.

    A thought came to mind. ¡°What about Lex?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯d forgot he was in Gold, him and his ants pissed me off,¡± He gave a wry chuckle.

    And I couldn¡¯t help but laugh.

    He was still Jusuf, ¡°I¡¯m sorry Ju. For everything.¡±

    ¡°We can talk later, the sun¡¯s peaking. Aren¡¯t you going to be late for that ember boy I¡¯m stronger than?¡±

    I¡¯d lost track of time with all the chaos. Edric wasn¡¯t one you¡¯d keep waiting, chaos or no chaos. I cursed and started sprinting to the Tomes. Yelling a familiar, but off, bye to Ju on my way.

 Chapter 5 | Her

    No matter how many times I had to search through the tomes I always found another ¡®hidden¡¯ section of books. I had been trying to learn all books in it since I first started working at the tomes, trying to make it easier to find and return the texts people asked for, or that I wanted to read. But people constantly misplaced books, and Lunar refused to maintain a constant ordering of things: she would shift books of a particular category- or theme, or maybe just ones that started and ended with the same character- around the alcoves, putting them wherever her whims demanded.

    There were alcoves dedicated to the arts, cooking, music, some even mentioned pyre. But everyone who knew craft seemed not to care to share their experience. Our tomes had much to it, not all of which I fully understood, but it lacked craft. Or, at least, enough to piece together even the basics. I¡¯d been through the tomes thousands of times. I didn¡¯t know every book, but I¡¯d be damned to have missed any on craft. I¡¯d heard the Kingdom of Fire taught it- even to ashen like me. But you needed to be skilled. They were common amongst embers, it would be common for all if it didn''t cost a tides wage for the average villager.

    After searching all reasonable areas where the last book could have been, I moved on to the less reasonable places. It took until my arms started to tire from the ones I was already carrying for me to see it, tucked away in the philosophy area of the Tomes. Fearing Edric''s annoyance, and already scarred by tantrum from other young Embers, I yanked the book from its vice and rushed back to the study.

    With my fear and haste sparking my senses, I jerked to a stop before colliding with the girl, apparently birthed from a mound of books splayed on the floor. Neither, however, were able to prevent my eyes falling on her and staying fixed for a bit too long.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± she said, her voice bright yet gentle. Her aspen eyes were still tumultuous, but steadying to rest like waves post-crash. She recovered quickly for how close it was. Lunar, my sister, once said that aging is just getting better at being still. Her and this girl both seemed too good at that. Then again, Lunar also said age should be a matter of experiences, not time.

    ¡°I... I¡¯m fine. Do you need any uhm, help?¡± I don''t remember the last time I had talked to a girl, that''s if you don''t count Vema and Lunar, which I don''t. There were none at the orphanage, and I stayed clear of the Holy sisters. I forced myself to look away, but her gold locks and delicate figure were just as distracting as her face. Very. She seemed like she must have grown up pampered- flicking through book pages and tutors alike.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    She didn''t respond. The silence was starting to make me feel uncomfortable, growing pricklier by the second. My curiosity trumped my awkwardness causing my eyes to search for hers. I wasn¡¯t able to catch them straight away. She was busy staring at the stack of books in my hands. When her gaze finally set on mine there seemed to be a slight shine this time, a small fire alight. ¡°you¡¯re studying for the selection too?¡± she finally asked.

    The selection was a test held by each of the five major Kingdoms within Yerebia. The ember Clan ruled over Tomov, my village, so I''d have to pass their tests and trials. You''d usually take it in your sixteenth year. Do well and you''d set yourself down a path of power- both physical and societal. Someone with no backing like me usually couldn¡¯t even dream of getting in, regardless of how much they wished to. It was the door to leading the armies within the templar or ruling cities. Only nobles like the ones I assisted within the Tomes, and those with some sort of discipleship could muster up the resources and time to study and train for it. That meant she likely had some background.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°No no, I just work here, I didn¡¯t¡­I didn¡¯t mean to disturb you,¡± I tried to leave before I could falter anymore in front of her, but something tugged at my arm.

    She had grabbed my sleeve. "Sorry, I''m really clumsy sometimes, Father says it''s a curse." She sighed, "But I still don''t understand why you have books on government, languages and land? and even some Deante too! Are you a traveller? Are you with a master? Does he¡­ does he know much of fire?"

    I thought the question odd, which made me more nervous, unsure which one of us was more disorientated. ¡°I¡¯m finding books for the son of ascetic Heliar.¡± I said firmly, or at least I tried, hoping it''d calm her.

    A wave of recognition crossed her eyes. but he doesn''t need anything advanced like Maurelius?¡± Her eyebrows lightly furrowed. I was intrigued by how she knew him but I guessed Heliar was big enough of a star in the village for his son, Edric, to be fawned over too. And Edric''s physique from all the combat training probably didn''t hurt with the younger women- the older too really.

    The book she named was a text on one of the more advanced selection exams. Someone like me really shouldn''t be interested in it, nor be able to read, for that matter. And it was too advanced for Edric. "err, I..." Unsure of what to say, my mind scrambled for a response. "It''s for another noble," I lied.

    She measured the truth of my words with her eyes. They danced across my face, flashed to my hands and posture before burrowing their way through me.

    "lie." Came the verdict, and also a soft grin.

    I couldn''t really explain why or how but her smile made me scared. And bold. And warm. "I enjoy books too," I conceded.

    The scan was quicker this time, more playful. "maybe truth." She said, then she proceeded to hold me in silence. Awaiting my response to her non-question.

    "I thought maybe reading them could be useful to me someday..."

    " for the testing then? so you are an ember?"

    "...likely not,"

    "what? You don''t¡­ so you''re an orphan?"

    "Was, Lady Vema took me and my sister in here." I waited for the usual scoff or slander. It always followed when embers found that out. Reading was all but reserved for the wealthy, or at least the not impoverished, which the majority of the village seemed to be. Me and lunar were rarely considered beyond workers, masked by our literacy, so the embers never bothered considering us more than they needed to.

    "Oh, but you''re still an orphan, just one with a home I suppose," The comment took me aback. An odd attack, but consistent with embers I guess. My lips split, yearning to weave a defence, I wanted to defend the family Vema built between us and lunar, it wasn¡¯t whole, but it worked.

    "I don''t... I guess," I murmured.

    She held us in silence briefly. And I feared that she was preparing more verbal spears to prod me with. ¡°When you finish it, we can discuss it, no one in father¡¯s court has anything fresh to say about it," she said, her lips curling high. At the advent of the smile something bubbled inside of me. Along with an unforeseen desperation not to let it pop.

    Without a bye or a name, she withdrew back into her nest of books. I spent a moment dazed before straightening at the thought of the wooden haired boy left waiting. I made haste, alone once more. Except with my mind left to tease me with the bright-eyed girl''s essence: speculations on what herbs it had; where they came from; and other facts of small use.

 Chapter 6 | Puzzling

    Edric and I were seated in his father¡¯s alcove, on the first floor of the tomes. The ground floor was rarely busy, and that was more so true on the upper levels, which made it good for studies. The place looked barren: A few rows of bookshelves, some recessed reading areas, and a wall filled by a map was all that adorned it. Both floors together were barely larger than three or four houses, nowhere near as lavish as the templar or the church, and certainly nothing to challenge the buildings of the cities.

    "Close, the northern frost regions are ruled by the Kingdom of Ice. They have no ruler and their people do operate under anarchy but it¡¯s basically the peoples¡¯ consensus, any major issues are usually resolved by duals to the death. It''s a core part of their culture."

    "then how are their armies so strong Los? There¡¯s no rule, there¡¯s no order. Surely anyone with some balls and half decent troops could kick the syon out of them?¡± Edric whined to me, showing more emotion than he had the whole night.

    He was quick to memorise but also often quick to forget. I''d set up a regime to cover material on First Sun and review on the Seventh Sun of the cycle. Midcycle he''d often have sage arts with his mentor or father, leaving him no extra time to study.

    I had already explained this to him, "The Kingdoms don¡¯t compete Edric, we share resources. And if there was ever a war, we¡¯d be fighting with them, not against. That¡¯s why the Holy Sage made the Academy, he wanted all the leaders of the Kingdoms to be capable and learn to co-operate.¡±

    Edric took a second to consider my words, ¡°But father... and the king rules over all the Kingdoms, right?"

    ¡°what did¡­ Yes.¡± There seemed to be something there. His father would sometimes be caught questioning the leaders of the Ember Kingdom, those of Rigmor House. He may have spread it to his family. I wanted to know what was there, maybe Edric knew why, but it was too risky. Much like trying to talk about the incident at Randy forest this morning. I didn¡¯t know how Edric would respond, I¡¯d just use his engagement with the topic to drive his learning.

    ¡°But the great Sage is the king of the kingdom¡¯s, not any of the lords of the embers.¡± I continued. He would sometimes talk about the king and Great Sage as though they were just lord of the likes like his Uncle. I always tried to emphasise, how great the King and Great Sages power was, or at least as best I could. To be honest being so far from any of the great Cities, there was not much I knew other than any news we got to put in the Tak.

    Edric was beginning to pay less attention to me. He would rather even arithmetics to studying too much politics. Although I heard from Lunar he told her he wanted, ¡®to make the Kingdom a better place¡¯. To me the words sounded foolish coming from him, but from the rosy look she had when she told me, I could tell Lunar didn¡¯t agree with me.

    With his exam coming up it would have been wise for him to spend more time reading but whenever I mentioned it, he''d just dismiss it, saying he''ll make up for anything he forgets with a faster jab or quicker step in the combat trials. Problem being he had to pass the written exam first.

    We ended up finishing what I''d planned for the day and he done well on the oral exam I gave him. I earned a few grunts from him for each mistake I corrected, each one forcing me to stutter. He''d likely forget most of what he¡¯d learned by the end of the Cycle- replacing it all with ways to bloody his foes.

    Around eve his father came to take him home. Edric was sixteen, a young man capable of travelling between villages alone, let alone through his own streets. But the church had recently significantly raised taxes for the villages, leading to increase in prices and thievery. Making nobles like Edric prime victims for looting. Heliar, however, was one of the few ascetics within the village. Few would dare cause him trouble.

    Had he heard about the fight? He must have by now with Benlor and Gruf going to find him I thought.

    But when Heliar came to pick up Edric, it was the usual noisy entrance. There an edge to it this time though. From the upper alcove I heard him cleave the door wide, followed by the sound of what seemed to be a dragon learning to climb stairs. As soon as he appeared from the stairway the atmosphere changed, he was still decked in his usual red robe and wooden sandals but an aura of silent thunder clamoured around him. His brown hair was now bound into a tail by green animal skin and swayed as he walked like a whip being cracked impossibly slow.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Father, the stame¡­ what happened?¡±

    "Where''s Velle?" cut Heliar. His voice raspy, the words strained by alcohol and anger.

    His state was typical, but the stame on his head wasn¡¯t. It was probably the most valuable thing in the whole village. It was bestowed to Heliar from a Duke of the Church when he had to retire to village life. I had heard it had belonged to the People of Ringer, a powerful tribe in the Earthen lands. I heard the stame was Ringer¡¯s vine. From the gossip of noble children, I knew stories about it. With it, Ringer performed unusual craft- the kind of which the church could not understand. They said he never used pyre. Which I could not understand. What was craft without pyre? I never knew the pyre to differ. He had somehow managed to match one of the churches ascended in battle with it without it though.

    "With this many book around her? Only the dead know where she is father. But father, you wouldn¡¯t wear the band unless-"

    It was always impressive how quickly Edric could annoy his father. I didn¡¯t know if the interaction was atypical of father-son relationships. When I was in the orphanage there was no room for annoyance- anything and everything was a call to a beating. But this time it was worse. Within a second Heliar¡¯s eyebrows had sharpened to a cross. ¡°I told you to watch her boy. There¡¯s no time, where¡¯d you leave her?"

    Edric¡¯s head shirked in, much like a turtle¡¯s would. "It was her first time, I wanted to let her explo-" he started, but Heliar had grown angrier with every word he said.

    "I''m here." The same girl I''d bumped into earlier, sans book-pit, appeared at the door. She was carrying a stack of three hefty works, making me instinctively jerk towards her to help. But she done it with ease, if only looking a little disorientated. You would have thought she¡¯d just awoken if it wasn¡¯t for how alive her eyes were.

    She might have been adjusting to all the extra light the upper floor had from the big windows. ¡°Father, you¡¯re wearing the stam, what¡¯s happened?¡±

    Heliar loosened, releasing a sigh. He was more concerned than I had realised, he was probably worried for his children knowing the recent events then. So, he must have known what happened. I realised I had been starring a bit to intently at Heliar. He casted me a quick scrutinising, enough to scare me, and then turned away.

    ¡°You¡¯re both safe.¡± He softened his look towards his daughter. "Nothing for you to care for. Did you find anything useful child? And why are you such a mess? Your mother raised a lady, not a trull."

    Velle looked disappointed but didn¡¯t press the matter. ¡°No, not really, I still don¡¯t know how to progress¡­ and I was reading father, we are in the tomes,¡± she complained. Then with a hint of hope she tried, ¡°It¡¯d be useful to get one of the ascetics to-¡°

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you none of them can guide you well considering they all took decades to gain the same insight you have dear, you can just come with us when your brother fails his testing in the city. Besides, they¡¯re all¡­ busy right now.¡±

    Her look of disappointment made me break, then I hated myself for being so weak. Merriam had said men to be like grand floral arrangements like the ones of Yerebia. Though I had yet to see any, I begun to hear the idea as true. I imagined us loud and decadent; maintained only by our women. Then I thought how deeply I wanted her to maintain me. And when my shame came once more, I used a breathing exercise to clear my mind- It only working mostly.

    I noticed Edric¡¯s head dipped slightly at the mention of the testing and further still at his sister¡¯s talent. It felt bad seeing him like that. But I was concerned with what the ascetics where busy with- It seemed the news had spread after all.

    Heliar¡¯s head snapped to me again, his look pinning me like nail in plank. And for a second I questioned if I had ever read anything about mind reading in the tomes. ¡°Where¡¯s today¡¯s Tak?¡±

    I almost sighed relief. He used to not care what was happening in the city, the only times he¡¯d care to read it would be a flick through, and he¡¯d often jump to the divinations for the weather. I think it helped him decide when and when not to wear his sandals.

    But things changed a few weeks back. I always had it ready for him now. it had become a daily routine. Heliar yelled at me once for ¡®forgetting¡¯ it and then it became ritual. I couldn¡¯t understand why he cared so much before, the cities news rarely affected anyone from the village, but he was an ascetic.

    I gave Heliar the Tak I had with me.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go home.¡± Heliar said.

    ¡°But I was meant to go meet Tim and some friends for a few games of tempest.¡± Edric said.

    ¡°Boy, say another word and only the dead know what I¡¯ll do to you.¡±

    Velle was apathetic to the drama, though her eyes stayed hard on her father. Heliar ushered his children to leave before him, following right behind.

    I couldn¡¯t help but gravitate my focus once again to her as they went, just before disappearing past the doorway she looked back, sneaking me a smile. Heliar had copied her, looking back too, just in time to catch a dumb expression painted on my face. A whirlwind of emotion stirred in me, not least of all being fear.

 Chapter 7 | Puzzling

    I couldn¡¯t ignore it. There must have been a reason for Heliar¡¯s recent obsession with the city. And he seemed more solemn with his request today. The man in black probably came from the city. That¡¯s where true sages were. I needed more information. If I could find the tak scribings, I might be able to explain what happened.

    l raced down the stairs to the ground floor and found nobody there. Velma left me and Lunar to man the Tomes, and Lunar had left me with any tuition jobs for the day so she could handle the ground floor. It was a large room slightly smaller than the study. The difference in space worked as two rooms attached to the ground floor: one for me and Lunar; one for Velma.

    There were rows of books ordered in random aisles, leaving odd spacing between shelves like a misshapen maze.

    The floor was empty. I wouldn¡¯t put it beyond lunar to have somehow mastered an ashen fake of Gyr¡¯s Eye to let her spend less time doing her work. Honestly, knowing Lunar she could have somehow figured out the real deal. She was resourceful. She knew things she shouldn¡¯t.

    I used to think it was the books. When we got here neither of us where anything special, Velma probably chose us because she¡¯d heard of some of our exploits during the orphanage- likely as rants from Vam.

    We¡¯d scheme. Me, her and Jusuf. A trio none less perfect than the three swords of Hanon. Jusuf would always lead, we¡¯d never agree on that, he¡¯d just always be moving before the plan was even settled. And she¡¯d improvise.

    Men are no mightier than mice when it comes to forcing a future; there¡¯d always be an unforeseen obstacle to overcome. And she would figure out how: If we were to raid a stall in the Village Centre, she¡¯d disguise as an ember; If we stole extra dinner from Vam, she¡¯d be the one buying us time when his lackeys heard something.

    Today I had no team though, but I still had an objective. Curiosity guides us forward, and I¡¯d be damned before I forsook mine. It involved committing a grave sin: raiding Velma¡¯s desk.

    The room really had two sets of mazes, split by a path leading from the entrance to her desk. coming from the staircase I had to weave through one, knocking over a book on my way. I¡¯d probably have to pick that up later.

    Her station was meticulous. She had papers ordered by dates piled in the corner, inks grouped by thickness at the back edge, and beads and charms ordered by colors lined up to the side. The beads looked too unremarkable. They had a still dullness too grey for a frame of life to capture. I felt a need to reach for them. Inspect them. But that would do no good. No point in adding in more risk.

    I came for her papers. The tak scribings. The ones her informants gave her. Velma had set up a network of them, people that would give her whispers and tales from the city, and she¡¯d weave their lines into a cohesive piece.

    This was the Tak. Her Tak. She¡¯d set it up a short while after me and Lunar arrived. She taught us to read and write to make more copies with minimal man power and to distribute her work. She taught us common tongues and hands to script for a wider audience. All the care she gave for us funneled back into the Tak. It¡¯s how she could talk at equals with the embers of the village. That and owning the tomes made her more valuable than a fair few embers.

    I¡¯d long ago realized her notes were filed away somewhere by her desk.

    #####

    Once an informant came at dawn, Lunar woke me up to watch. I had no idea how many times she may have eavesdropped

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to follow you anywhere before the sun has even rose, I don¡¯t think anyone should trust you in the day, let alone into the dark!¡± in my mind I was shouting at her but given the time she woke me, it was probably more like angry mumbling.

    My attempts at aggression where missed or ignored, smiling a haunting smile for the time of day, Lunar replied ¡°Firstly, the darkness changes nothing you tiddleneck. Secondly, if you can¡¯t trust your own family, then who? Follow me before I get rid of the little balls you have left.¡±

    I, of course-knowing her threats deadly- acquiesced.

    We snuck into the main room from our shared bedroom. There were no lamps lit in either. We had to creak our bedroom door open long enough to brew minty starmyre tea, just to dampen the noise.

    When navigating the room, the maze structure came to our aid, obscuring vision in any particular direction. Then Lunar motioned for us to hold our breaths to mask our sound. We were both used to it. At the orphanage we¡¯d compete endlessly.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    We''d race lungless, or just see who could hold their breath the longest. Jusuf usually won, but we all became really good at it. It¡¯d helped sometimes in the past to stay silent in manhunt games or get run loose in escapes. Now we¡¯d enact it to catch... something.

    Lunar took a measured breath, coupled her palms in front of her, and then started making odd shapes with them. There was something familiar about the hand signs but I wasn¡¯t quite sure what. I watched her confused. A pressure started to build. I looked to Lunar panicked but she had her eyes closed in focus, then with Lunar¡¯s soft exhale my ears popped.

    A greater silence stormed them. It felt like emptiness suddenly whirled into my canals. The silence was soon displaced by the clattering of my clothes and faint breathing which I attributed to Lunar until I realised, she¡¯d held her breath again and was motioning me to do the same. Jarring shuffling of feet joined the sound scape and I began to realise we were not really listening to what was going on near us, but a bit further off. I could hear it with the clarity of someone¡¯s lips to my ears. One, then shortly after, two sets of feet shuffled. And then once more there was just distant breathing, but this time a duet.

    Lunar led the way to a spot just close enough to see, but hard to be seen from. Velma stood tall next a man dressed in dark garbs and donning a matching mask. I¡¯d seen Temos¡¯s designs in his tailorshop one of the few times me, Ju and Lunar snuck into the embers region of village. It was hard to make out details in the dark, but the man looked to be wearing finery for an affluent Ashen or a lesser Embers training clothe. A transfer seemed to be taking place. She paid them gold. I¡¯d only ever seen copper before so when she took it out of her satchel to hand it over I almost gasped, Lunar¡¯s hand pre-emptively clogging my mouth in time to stop the sound. Velma performed a few hand gestures, much like Lunar¡¯s, and then began to scribe without the informant speaking. When her pen stilled the informant just left, no words exchanged.

    From that day, I became much more sceptical of Velma. And unnerved by Lunar.

    ¡°What was all of that last night?¡± I tried asking her the morning after, I found her at the largest window in the upper tomes, the sun bathing her in pure white. She¡¯d do this every cycle, always making sure she done it during suns to get the most light before it started setting post midday. Merriam and Deante showed up in the pile of books to her left, but there were some weird other inclusions. There were a lot of books about different tribes and cultures, the kind that you¡¯d read and remind yourself the world was more than the thousand walls length of Tomav. But she had ripped pages from them, leaving the pile of books to look more like a collage of books.

    The books felt like a rift between us, showing the gap in our experiences, all at her control. It made me worry. Not for myself but for her.

    She finally looked at me. Probably having finished a chapter in the time I wasted staring at her.

    ¡°Did you sleep well?¡± she asked.

    I faltered then quickly responded, ¡°what? How could I, did you se-hear whatever, what you... what happened last night?¡±

    Lunar knew how much I hated not knowing things. I think for a moment she showed some sympathy, but it was quickly hidden, ¡°Dreams are pretty cool, but if those are all you wanna talk about, then you¡¯re wasting my time timbleneck.¡± she said.

    I eyed her aggressively, trying to see what was going, but she ignored me, turning back to her note-taking.

    I was about to start talking again knowing all too well I couldn¡¯t make Lunar do syon all without her already wanting to do it.

    After some thought, I realised I could maybe make her want to respond. If I could do something that perplexed her as much as she did to me, she¡¯d all but need to talk to me. In that regard we where similar.

    I looked towards Lunar¡¯s eyes, although they weren¡¯t giving me any attention that was fine, I just needed to know there was a clear path between us.

    I clasped my hands, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to heavy my lungs as much as possible. I made sure the motions were long and slick like the theatrics of the circusfolk. And in best sync I could I replayed Lunar¡¯s motions from the night before, trying to copy her frame by frame, chanting as though I knew what I was saying. Although I thought my hand signs fairly accurate, I knew the words¡¯ sounds were completely off. Maybe craft ran on intent?

    And then¡­ nothing happened. When I opened my eyes, I saw Lunar staring at me. I did not even hear Lunar giggle which I¡¯d scoped as the worst scenario.

    She kept silence between us, seemingly inspecting me, I never felt awkward in front of Lunar, but I was beginning to at least start to feel discomfort. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be able to remember the movements.¡± She said. The words sounded flat and throwaway, but for Lunar this must have been genuine shock.

    As an afterthought she said, ¡°Just learn what you can.¡±

    She meant to continue just reading and tutoring in the tomes, minding my own business. Or maybe she meant to figure it all out by myself. Remember the night. Remember what I can and figure out the rest.

    Lunar said nothing past that, reaching to start looking at a new scroll, leaving my thoughts to go wild.

    Her cryptic behaviour was unnerving. But I never doubted her. We tend to give more slack for those that matter more to us. And Velma, Lunar, and Jusuf are about all that mattered to me. Whatever she was hiding, it meant I probably shouldn¡¯t know.

    What they done looped in my mind. The hand signs, the scribing, the sound. None of that was normal, beyond even pyre. I did not know much but I knew it should not be like that. It might have been higherCraft I¡¯d heard it mentioned, the kind Templars, Politika and Shaman used. But how would they have learned it? And did Velma teach Lunar or¡­?

    Lunar had never been to the institute. I¡¯d know. She just turned sixteen anyway, and Velma wouldn¡¯t be trapped in a village catering to lesser nobles if she had.

    I¡¯d figure it all out. Heliar, Velma and even Lunar. Lunar may have been our ace, and now a mysterious one at that, but if a plan ever just worked, it was mine. I just needed to know enough. And I had a feeling Velma¡¯s desk had some answers.

 Chapter 8 | Puzzling

    I circled the desk, a drained mahogany, with tattered stains like scars and marks like wounds, it was the kind who¡¯s history you would want to question. I stroked and prodded the wood, almost feeling for marrow while trying for any tells of hidden storage or craft, not that I''d really be able to tell the latter.

    I didn¡¯t know when Lunar would return, and Velma was even more puzzling, so I had to be quick.

    Velma may run discrete meetings, and know craft I¡¯ve not even heard about, but she was still Velma. Still flawed. If the scribings weren¡¯t so flaming important, I doubt she would have done more than the bare minimum with them. Velma was a reactive person, she¡¯d fix her mistakes, but she made plenty.

    To be honest I should have looked through her desk when I was still trying to ¡®learn what I can¡¯. Velma¡¯s desk was way too tidy for Velma.

    She often carried stacks of parchment from her desk to her room twice a cycle, I¡¯d bet those were the scribings. She never wrote at her desk- despite its stains- so she must take the papers to her room to make the tak we¡¯d have to translate into lower tongues. My resolve strengthened. I¡¯d search this desk ragged.

    Five inks, slightly left of the edge; one ajar from the rest; A draw left slightly opened; The papers on her desk ascending more and more chaotically with each stacked: I took a quick mental note of the state of things, I was good at loading up on information, maybe from all the books, maybe from all our scheming. So I was pretty sure I could return everything to the exact way I found it.

    First, I scanned the papers. They were all in low Urlin written by different merchants, mostly talking about new scrolls and books for the tomes. She never let me near her scrolls, but I¡¯d seen a few from random glimpses into her room, and judging from the what the merchants said, what I¡¯d seen was just the nail off the ogres foot.

    I rummaged the draws finding some of the poems she made us learn when we arrived, I guess they weren¡¯t just random, or maybe she just hadn¡¯t sorted them out since back then. The bottom right draw contained my reflection floating on a smooth surface. It looked like several glass windows fused. Like a hardened clear sea in a basalt frame. I¡¯d only heard of mirrors up until now, from vain rambles of embers. The artificers that made them where sages in their own right. Usually what they made had too much value for me to ever come across it.

    The rest of the draws came up blank too. Frustrated, I started looking around the desk again. I inspected the chair and only found myself a whiff of its age- to my dismay. I felt around. Nib-less scribbles on the desk, scratches on one of the legs, blotched deep ink stains. I was feeling for triggers or anything of note really. Defeated, I plopped into Velma¡¯s chair. I tried desperately to channel her thinking. Where would she put it?Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    I looked once more towards the beads on her desk. There were seven all of different colors. Transitioning cleanly from red to purple. The medley of hues seemed familiar but I couldn¡¯t quite place it. The beads grew to feel more and more distinctive in my hands. They all looked, and by touch seemed, the same. Yet they made different noises when they hit each other. The more time I spent with them the more each bead started to turn into its own world. Seven beads of seven sounds and feels. Then it struck me.

    I had an idea of something that could explain their significance.

    Me, Lunar and Ju didn¡¯t know about our birth, the orphanage didn¡¯t tell us anything of it, so we made up our own. We aligned it with the testing so it¡¯d be easy to celebrate with most of the embers from the village gone. We¡¯d usually trade our best gifts, be it our best steals of the year or the most meaningful finds and makes. Last year Vam did not let Jusuf leave the Keep on punishment, so we had to celebrate the day without him. Lunar gave me a manuscript. It wasn¡¯t particularly large but it looked old. Pages rightly browning and the cover tortured by time. She said what I took for as a joke, that it was a lost book from the six holy Templars, mythed teachers to the Great Sage himself, the supposed the founders of the Kingdoms.

    I didn¡¯t believe her of course. Though the book still looked valuable. And I¡¯d given her a silk dress I managed to steal from a travelling merchant¡¯s wife that I wasn¡¯t sure would fit her, so I had no rights for complaint.

    The book turned out interesting but useless. It showed a great war so tumultuous lands were split and seas were made. But throughout there was few words. The book was a faint memory now, but something about the beads forced it back into my mind.

    I rushed to my room to get it. Picking the book up from below my bed, I had to swat away others piles of texts and notes around it. I flicked through, scanning the diagrams.

    The book showed men and monsters alike at war. Two sides locked in conflict. There was seven men in total, all on the same side. They wore little attire, showing flesh with no shame- something the church would consider evil. They all wore short dress-like beast skins around their waist, each marked with numerous bloody streaks like a deadly counter.

    They all had black tattoos on them as well. They showed animals, shapes and weapons. I saw one man with a big bird printed on his wrist and the same beast flying high above him. What stood out the most was an angry looking man leading their ranks. He was draped in a robe made from beast skin, but this time it was much more than just a beast. It was a dragon, complete with scales each bursting with a soul of their own.

    I didn¡¯t know what was different about the book, but it wasn¡¯t the same as the last time I looked at it. There seemed to be more going on than I remembered. Regardless, nothing explained why the seven beads reminded me of the book. I flicked through the pages again, noting more the movements of the attacks, how they were formed and by who. The book did not speak of their hand signs, and it was kind of hard to notice them with all the grand fights at show, but they were there. In counting there were seven, some requiring wrist contortions and finger twists. I tried mimicking them, and felt more than a twinge of disappointment when nothing happened.

    In my displeasure I thought obviously the warriors couldn¡¯t exist. All they church mentioned was the Great Sage.

    But something tugged at me. There must have been something to all this. I couldn¡¯t let it rest. I kept on reading.

 Chapter 9 | puzzling

    I identified seven domains. Fire, water, earth, wind, or sound, the whole thing had rare text and it was written in a really old Gramian more to contextualize the diagrams within it than to really say anything. There was also light, dark and thought. I had inferred the book suggested the men¡¯s masteries of the domains lead to them conquering the original continent, Panima. They didn¡¯t call the land Panima but they described the tree of Farban being wrecked at its centre and the Mothering sea that surrounded Panima, both of which I had heard speculative mentions of in the carteology area of the tomes. So, I pieced it together. I also had a suspicion the dragon robed man was linked to the Great Sage. He had tattoos of fantastic beasts the great sage was said to have defeated.

    On the back cover was a shoddy silhouette of a man sat down naked in focus. He had two white orbs in either hand and three circled around his neck. Just a black figure with a lean muscular shape. He was barren of colour.

    But his midnight figure was laced with a rainbow, wrapping his body like veins.

    It felt profound. I¡¯d only looked at it for a split second, but I felt an angry headache building and my chest tightening my lungs to wheezing.

    I slammed the manuscript shut in panic. That was odd. I must have not bothered finishing the book when Lunar gave it to me. I knew that didn¡¯t happen before. Nor had I seen it in my first ten passes through the pages.

    ***

    The first time I ever heard of the Great Sage I was maybe eight. We went to be picked for apprenticeships into the Holy Sages order by the village saint. It all felt wrong, like the beads. They preached compassion and love, discipline and yielding. That all man¡¯s power came through the Great Sage and we should love him as the Holy Sage knew more than any man could and loved us despite knowing our faults and shames.

    Yet the church lead by fear, using the great Sage and his templars to do the dirty work: flogging heretics, guarding churches, stealing orphans.

    When we went the Saint told us the Sages origins. How he was once the Avatar. A man who became so powerful nature booned him with its will. But he was impure as man, and his power became unstable. He was plagued as a crude copy of a deity. The Saint said he casted his humanity into his will, gaining purity and enlightenment. His will was the power of the Great Sage and the Holy Sage was the enlightened Avatar himself. The Holy Sage, now pure gained immortality and made the Sphire, the first holy book. The saint said the Avatar left his wisdom from enlightenment as teachings for man so they too could earn his care for the afterlife.

    I didn¡¯t like the priest but his tales left me charmed, I remember being in awe, hanging on his words like a spell. As the Avatar distorted light, vanquished seas and threw balls of energy, I saw myself next to him, shaping the movements, performing the crafts. A single man who conquered ancient lands. Something there rattled the adventure within me, I could see myself growing to rule cities and empires, answering only to nature herself.

    ¡°God is a chosen kind, man should not try to be God. Man is not God.¡± The Saint said the words to all the orphans, but looked directly to me for the last few.

    The look he gave¡­ it¡¯s like he saw it all right through my skull. His expression somehow held scorn, reprimand and disapproval all at once.

    I saw my empires fade, my cities crumble.

    ¡°The greatest sin hence,¡± he continued, ¡°Is the crescent ego. An ego so large the man becomes blinded, lost in darkness. They¡¯ll animate the Avatar, either with hedon idols or in their minds, they¡¯ll try and restrict his might into what they know, into mere man, maybe to try and channel his strength or defile him. Know now these men are lost. They have crossed the border of blissful ignorance to heretic arrogance. Those who question the Holy Sage, merely elemental and hedonistic, or challenge for the Great Sage¡¯s power, are abandoned by the Avatar, as they abandon him.¡±

    I almost shivered at his words. I wanted to slip to the back of the orphans hidden from him. But a question sprung to mind, and try as It did, it wouldn¡¯t be subdued by fear.

    ¡°how¡­why does the church still have paintings and statues of the Duality then?¡± I could see Vam casting dark faces towards me but I kept my attention on the priest.

    He¡¯d usually be focused on Lunar or some of the more difficult older children but none of them were wanted by the priest. Lunar said she heard the priest only wanted the more callow orphans, the ones he could mold as he wished.

    ¡°The Holy Sage guides the church. Those in the order follow a pure craft, Drawing closer to God with their makes.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I thought the words hypocritical but the flare up in Vam¡¯s glare when my lips began to part was enough warning to stop. I nodded to the saint, but he just gave me a judging look and moved on.

    The look didn¡¯t seem to escape my peers and sniggers sounded. I buried myself into the crowd until there was no more crowd to tunnel.

    ***

    I knew the book could help me with the mysterious beads and I couldn¡¯t resist promise of a good puzzle.

    I went through the book again. This time I noted anything that happened seven times. Like the beads. The most obvious was colours. The book didn¡¯t really say much about them, it sometimes used colors interchangeably with the domains but there wasn¡¯t much about the domains either.

    I placed the beads into different orders, things like how many times a color appeared in the book, or the color graduation. For each I slotted the beads onto the string and put it on. Nothing happened each time. I wasn¡¯t even sure something was supposed to happen...

    I was beginning to grow frustrated. Maybe I should return the beads and string before Velma returned or maybe ask Lunar for help.

    No. I felt a need to puzzle through. There was something to this, something here.

    I let my fingers dance through the pages of the manuscript once more, darting my eyes between diagrams, flashing across the texts. I couldn¡¯t think of anything. With how frustrated I was I only felt somewhat bad jumping to the picture of the meditator once more.

    The preachers words once more swam in my mind. Looking at the meditator returned the headache, swirling my thoughts into a storm. ¡®Man is not God¡¯. Oww. ¡®Arrogance.¡¯ Oww. ¡®Idol¡¯. Oww. ¡®Abandoned¡¯. Ow-ahhh.

    I got it. Idol.

    I placed two beads in either hand and laced three into a necklace and posed, trying to match the meditator. Nothing happened. The beads felt wrong in the pose, not different, just wrong. I tried again, changing the positions of the beads and still nothing. If I just tried every combination of beads, I¡¯d still be trying to find the ¡®right¡¯ combination long after Velma returned- long after the Holy Sage returned for Reckoning really.

    ¡®Man is not God¡¯. Below never above. The words seemed to peck at me in my growing frustration, a mix of the sphires scriptures and the priest''s words. ¡®Merely elemental and hedonistic¡¯.

    I¡¯d never read the sphire but I¡¯d read books discussing it. One of them theorised most of what belonged to hedon, Mother Earth, were just elemental based. Much less than God who was beyond nature.

    What if earth, wind, fire and water- brown, grey, red and blue- were below a higher purple, black and white, the latter representing thought, dark and light.

    I set up the beads again, lacing the higher colors on the string and posed once more. Before I could even consider any religious ramifications, the beads started to glow. Something finally happened.

    The glow was somewhere between a sheath of water and the sun¡¯s haze, I didn¡¯t want to look away from it.

    It didn¡¯t really waiver in boldness as I held it but it seemed to grow and shrink as I moved it around.

    After some experimentation I decided try and build the growth. Its brightness acted as compass, leading me back into the main floor- and I knew immediately where it¡¯d take me. I followed the mystic guide right back to Velma¡¯s desk. Everything was the same. I walked the guide around the table. It hit peak glow on the right leg.

    I had to.

    I puddled the beads on the floor and started fiddling with the leg. Last time I searched I felt indents but ignored them as they didn¡¯t seem to matter, maybe stubbings from frustrated kicks or aggressive tapping, but this time I counted them.

    My heart stirred when I realised there were exactly seven. Within seconds I had two beads in either hand and the necklace on. I assumed the meditators pose once more and closed my eyes in anticipation. My eyelids casting me into a warm orange rather than black made it clear the beads were still glowing.

    Another mystery? The beads assured me there was something to find so I couldn¡¯t give up now. But even though Velma would likely come back late or at least past closing to avoid all the embers- Lunar could be back anytime and I wasn¡¯t sure if that should be worrying or relieving.

    Did these beads link to her and Velma¡¯s hand signs? If they both knew about all of this why wasn¡¯t I told? And why would Lunar have us spy on Velma? Clearly Lunar knew too much, and I didn¡¯t even know where she was. But she gave me the book and that acted as a clue, besides I couldn¡¯t imagine Lunar doing anything bad- other than the espionage and theft, obviously.

    I tried many things. I placed the beads in the holes, hoping this was just a crafted copy of the childish wooden jigsaws. I wrapped the beads as a necklace around the leg but that failed too. I picked the necklace, readying to test another guess, the chain unlinked and the beads fell. They spread like water loosed on concrete, messy in end assembly. Almost as disordered as the leg.

    I lunged to the table, grabbing an ink ready to draw. The leg was on the carpet so I rolled it along the floor, a radian to a third each turn. My drawing marked the indents on the leg but mapped to a flat plane on my palm. It was a copy, a replica. An idol. From the priest¡¯s words I didn¡¯t think it would have to be exact.

    I did the same with the beads now, mapping their configuration with the drawing. Before placing the last bead I could already tell the stubs weren¡¯t random, my drawing shaping into an unknown character.

    The more beads I placed, the clearer the symbol and the more baffled I became.

    It looked old, at least it wasn¡¯t from a local tongue nor derivatives. If it was a symbol it was either from far away or long ago.

    After I placed the seventh bead, with the formed, the beads once again glowed, actuating the symbol with a heavenly quill, bathing my eyes in white.

 Chapter 10 | Knocked Out

    A wooden sheet unfurled from the desk leg, peeling away the marks, and leaving the leg unbranded, like new. With the sheath rose the beads, holding onto the symbol and their glow. They merged in the air, the glow overpowering my sight as they joined. When things came back into focus, I was left with pages bound by that same thread I used for the necklet. How that joined the commotion I did not know.

    Now there was more words I didn¡¯t know, and more diagrams, all decorating pulpy white pages, wound firmly together.

    A character was weird enough but a book I couldn¡¯t read, or even learn to read felt wrong. When Velma taught us languages she did several in succession, forcing us to load up on vocabulary so we could effectively translate as soon as possible.  Reading in those scripts was something we would do for ourselves. Books were like proofs to the languages, giving definition and meaning to the their abstract. But now this book just felt like a question. It was the culmination of more craft than I¡¯d seen in fourteen years of my life. I didn¡¯t even know what could or couldn¡¯t happen, let alone what I should or shouldn¡¯t do with it.

    For a second, I tempted the idea of leaving it be, leaving it for Velma, playing ignorant or lying my way out of being involved. Not much time later though my hands were back to licking the pages. I was more cautious now though, I didn¡¯t want to ruin any. If Velma wanted to keep this book a secret, I couldn''t quite guarantee I mattered more than its concealment. Especially if it involved more craft.

    The book started with a couple dozen pages, each with only a few lines in their centre. After there were hundreds of diagrams in the book. They contained figures similar to the meditator. However, this time the poses all showed actions, sometimes a succession of diagrams and captions showing a movement and sometimes a single diagram with walls of text surrounding it. It looked like an art form, like some of the dances I¡¯d seen by circus folk during festivals. Powerful poses demonstrating skill and practice, just much more elegant, even more of a dance. I could even see the poses acted out. Individually they looked sharp, controlled. But thinking of some of them together, back to back, I could see a warrior dancing into enemy lines and playing them like a flute.

    The Gramians were old buried languages. The kind spoken when the Avatar conquered our lands. I¡¯d see hints of them in some books, maybe a character or a short passage, but never full scripts of it like this. It was frustrating. Who knew what the book said. My hopes were many but they all just really came down to something useful. Something that could me see more than just the quite of Tomav in this life. Noticing my grip start to bore into the page, I took a few slow breaths to calm down.

    I would have to learn the language? There were not many books I had seen involving a gramian hand. It¡¯d be harder still to find any teaching it. Then again, there were still parts of the tomes I had yet to really read, there were just too many books.

    If this was one of the cities tomes there¡¯d be a section dedicated to each hand. Probably experts of the tongues too. I wanted to see it, at least to see how wide things really were. When you are stuck in the same place for too long, that becomes your world.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Boosh! The room was thrown into light along with the slamming of the entrance door.

    Flames. Was it lunar? She''d never come through the doorway though, and the slam was too abrasive for Velma. I didn¡¯t waste time looking. I clamped the book shut, hurrying to chuck it into the drawer. But I was too slow.

    ¡°Over there Jiren! The boy,¡±

    I turned from the desk and froze. Two giants in black, both built like boulders and large enough to tower the book stalls, had entered. Neither of their faces or skins were exposed. One of them I wasn''t even sure was a man, even his eyes were hidden by the black of his robe. But the other carried a sinister aura and wicked green eyes.

    Green eyes and all black. It was the guy that fought the ascetic. Why would he come to the Tomes?

    I wanted to scream. Or run. Or hide. But I couldn¡¯t even bring myself to blink.

    There was a brief second were Jiren, the black brute, nodded and I stood stuck staring, not even able to think. All I could hear was my heart pounding.

    Fwoosh. I felt like I was under Lunar¡¯s craft once more: The scraping and shifting of foot on carpet, a rush of wind, and the pounding of an arm on neck. My eyes were wide and wild. I had barely seen him move. A sweaty, gravelly stench pervaded my noise. Jiren had lifted me by the neck.

    I no longer had control over anything. My lips let out a muffled scream and my limbs begun flail for freedom, waving the book¡¯s pages in hand like the white flag of Riedan. When Velma told me his story I could never understand why he cried, but now I knew it to as the pain of the powerless.

    ¡°Kill the boy and grab the book Jiren.¡± The green-eyed man said impatiently.

    A cold hollow fear took me. In the same way the ocean consumed its victims, I felt I was drowning. Completely overwhelmed by Jiren''s strength.

    I tensed up all over, bracing death with my small act of resilience. I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched the book close. I thought about offering it up but my words would be too slow, and my life had no value to them. My hardened muscle felt like a blanket. The more my fear rose, the tighter I tensed, the warmer I was.

    I didn¡¯t know what the great Sage done to those unworthy of the afterlife, but consumed by a mortal fear, about to die for falling into a world not of my own, I rebelled as much as I could. I didn¡¯t plead to the great sage for help, I had already  I cursed him for all the things I was never able to try, and never would.

    Scene where he get¡¯s into an altercation with embers and Edric saves him. He¡¯s grateful but Edric reminds him of his place in society.

    Jiren had begun to squeeze hard at my neck. My skin pierced then started to burn. My larynx was going to pop. A crack then searing pain spread through my neck. This was it. I¡¯d barely lived. And with all my time spent learning, I wouldn¡¯t even get to understand why I died.

    I felt all the heat escape my body. I presumed it was a result of the hypoxia. The warmth of my body was replaced by a heavy tiredness. My arms felt like they¡¯d gained tonnes of weight in seconds. I¡¯d been losing senses too. All I could feel now was the dull scorch of fire on my neck, then even that stopped.

    ¡°Stop! What did you do?¡±

    My last sight was the alarmed eyes of the green eyed man running towards me.

 Chapter 11 | Kidnapped

    Slap!

    Slap!

    Slap!

    Each hit like a gong, calling my body to wake. At first, I just knew of the hits, the same way you¡¯d know of the ground beneath you. But then they started to hurt. Each strike gave me a bit more feeling, and a bit more pain.

    When it stopped, I tried to numb my mind to the stinging reverb left on my cheeks, instead focussing on the sounds around me. Things were quiet, I found it hard to tell if I had damaged ears or if my surroundings were still. Soon then loud footsteps begun then dimmed to nothing. I thought it was my terroriser leaving, but that wasn¡¯t enough to calm me.

    The tame crackle of a fire nearby came loudest after that. I found it troubling I hadn¡¯t heard it sooner but it¡¯s warmth begun to sooth me. I seemed to be laying facing it. The warm dirt informing me. Time passed like this, unknown to me how much of it. Every once in a while, I¡¯d hear the shuffling of a pair of feet, wooden clackering, then a gentle roar from the fire and a stronger glow on my face.

    I tempted opening my eyes but decided against it. The last thing I remembered was death. I didn¡¯t imagine the Great Sage greeted everyone who made it into the afterlife with meaty hands and a campsite.

    My neck no longer hurt. it felt surprisingly good. I would have thought I was in a different body if it wasn¡¯t for the rest of me. There were few injuries, but I was overwhelmed by a hollow feeling.

    Footsteps came, along with messy breathing.

    ¡°There¡¯s no use, the boy¡¯s out cold,¡± The man by the fire said.

    ¡°Still bleeding, his neck?¡± The newcomer was Jiren his deep voice telling.

    ¡°No, that water pulse of his¡­ it completely stopped your flames. All he had was some shallow cuts on his neck.¡±

    ¡°How, how¡¯d he do it Gorma, how?¡± asked Jiren.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way a child like him could do that Jiren, it was perfectly balanced against you, no pyre wasted. That kinda skill could make him an aidin in the Kingdom of Water. He had help. It must have been a ward or something by his master. Probably to protect the book,¡±

    ¡°The women? Gorma no, the women failed academy.¡±

    ¡°You oaf, with a world book, why would you go through the academy? Flames though, all of them embers in that village and an ashen had a world book. And she ran their tomes. Hiding in plain sight!¡± Gorma let out a grunt.

    ¡°Haha, you¡¯re right Gorma, those embers must have been idiots,¡±

    "Strong idiots, it¡¯s true what they say though, mages get wilder the further you go from the city. Dare I say that Heliar could have made the white guards,¡± Gorma said, shaking his head.

    There was a brief stint of silence. ¡°.¡­ are you sure it¡¯s fine?¡± Asked Jiren.

    ¡°The boy is still alive and his pyre is pitiful, there¡¯s no way he could have done anything. He must still have the book. Once Emra finds his master we¡¯ll interrogate both, worst case, we¡¯ll get a holy sister to look through their memories.¡±

    ¡°Try it now, try the eyes now,¡±

    Gorma let out an irritated sigh, ¡°I did earlier and I¡¯m too tired now. If I tried again, I might overdo it. It doesn¡¯t even matter, wait for Emra,¡±

    The eyes. Those glowing green eyes from before. They must have been Rahr¡¯s eyes. I heard they only glowed when they were used to see something more valuable than themselves. Legend was they were ripped from the sockets of the seer Rahr and enchanted by a peer of light. Reading about it for the testing, I never even thought they existed, let alone that I¡¯d come across them.

    A cold sweat rolled down my head. They said Rahr¡¯s eyes had a golden centre and glowed to reflect the nature of the artefact nearby. Green was meant to be corrupt.

    Seeing them shine that bright emerald in the tomes was all the more worrying now. I tried feeling around for the book, I had mixed feelings when I felt the beads light on my chest, I remembered they had turned into the necklace.

    I wanted anything I could confirm or understand now. I needed more information. Some sort of bearing for my sanity. Desperate, I opened my eyes before even deciding on it, shutting them as soon as I realised. Neither of them was looking at me so they hadn¡¯t noticed. But that also meant I couldn¡¯t see Gorma¡¯s face.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    I didn¡¯t gain much new information except that we were in a forest and it was dark. The forest was unfamiliar, the trees rising higher than I was used to. They two men had set up a fire here.

    Jiren was an ember, he flamed my neck. But the Gorma was the one that fed the fire. Why would you when you had actual flames at your command? Was he that exhausted, or maybe he wasn''t an ember? I thought about how they mentioned the white guards, and how they could have Rahr¡¯s eye, an artefact of a peer of light.

    Why did they attack the ascetics and wreck the tomes? They were powerful men, but the ascetics were the strongest of the village, they¡¯d even claim respect in the city. Not to mention there was only two of them here. They mentioned a third, that Emra, but he wasn¡¯t there at the keep training or the tomes.

    The more I thought about things the more clammy my hands became. These weren¡¯t just bandits.

    I didn¡¯t know what a world artefact was either. I¡¯d heard of paragon artefacts, Rahr¡¯s eyes were one of them. If the book was more valuable than even that then¡­

    What was Velma doing with it? They said she¡¯d gone to the academy but she had told us she was born and raised in the village.

    Nothing made sense.

    ¡°Think he woke.¡±

    Even with my eyes closed I was sure I could still feel them look my way. I heard steps begin towards me.

    This is it, I thought. I cannot say my mind was sound then and there in my fear. I played out what could have happened, what might have happened, and what would never happen but would have scared me enough to believe.

    My thoughts were frantic. I thought to protect my eyes and heart. Dumb eyes were windows. The keepers had all but stared out confessions, whether true or false, from boys at the keep. A manic heart loosened the body. Your hands, your posture, your mouth would all betray you. Nothing good ever happened when you let other men influence those. But these weren¡¯t just men. They were mages and I was a boy.

    I had to avoid talking. Avoid them. Holding my tongue would be taken as an act of defiance that¡¯d earn me beatings I couldn¡¯t handle. I needed them to consider my silence as due course. I knew how.

    I stopped my breathing and counted the seconds pass. I needed around a minute to calm my heart completely.

    First, those same meaty hands struck me again. The hit hurt more than before. After my lack of response, even though I very much wanted to scream one out, my eyelids were reeled back. I tried to mimic the same cloudy look Vam gave when I done it to him once as a kid during one of his daytime naps. When my eyes were opened I made sure not to focus on anything in particular, I saw Jiren wide and clear.

    He¡¯d taken off his robe so his face was on show. He was thick tanned and even more so scarred, with a large slit running across his face. More than anything he was big, monstrously big for a person, his breath on me like a current.

    My fish eyes might have been too convincing, Jiren opted to check my breathing right after. I let shallow breaths flow- unconscious people never breathed heavy. But, It was hard to keep them composed. I could only hope Jiren couldn¡¯t tell.

    ¡°Think something wrong.¡± Jiren said to Gorma.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The boy, the boys not good.¡±

    ¡°What does that even mean, what¡¯s wrong with him?¡±

    ¡°Breath slow, heart too.¡±

    ¡°Ever so succinct. He was like that yesterday too, it¡¯s been five days, I think he¡¯s just got us on a con.¡±

    ¡°Four months with holy sisters, I¡¯d know if boy faked,¡±

    Gorma sighed, ¡°You and I both know at least three of those months were just you flirting,¡±

    I heard a hearty laugh from Jiren. ¡°Many years, you know me too well.¡±

    Gorma mumbled in agreement, ¡°With that spare month of training, what you think offed the boy?¡±

    ¡°Too much power, too little pyre.¡±

    ¡°But he couldn¡¯t have cast the-¡±

    ¡°No, too much power. Too close. Too weak. Pyre into mess. Now his body fix.¡±

    ¡°Thought you said he stopped the attack?¡± asked Gorma.

    ¡°Not handle all.¡±

    Gorma took the words in. ¡°He¡¯ll wake up soon, everybody¡¯s gotta eat.¡±

    My stomach lasted an hour before it began to howl. I realised being unconscious was a blessing in its own way. But I kept my ploy faking it. I¡¯d snuck more glances and knew only Jiren was watching me now.

    Jiren had been by the fire for an hour or several. He had been sat in deep focus, the sounds of my stomach going unnoticed. From the angle all I could see was his back. Occasionally he¡¯d chant and occasionally he¡¯d move, and I¡¯d dare look, seeing him dance with the fire, warping it and shaping it. It was amazing, like watching a man playing with a dragon. He opted for slow focused movements, almost tribal in their togetherness.

    Jiren performed the same rituals for me the night after, another day passing in my hunger. The movements were now etched in my mind though, it was the only entertainment I had and I found it fascinating the way the fire would prance around him. It seemed charmed by him, moving for him and with him.

    My hunger had grown beyond control. It would waver in and out of phase, at its strongest enchanting me into a mental craze. I was finding it hard to reason my silence to myself. A conversational surely couldn¡¯t be worse than starvation? And I had nothing to hide. The whole mess was Velma¡¯s. I was innocent. But every time I thought to talk to them and earn some food, my lips re-tied at the thought of Lunar, and my ignorance in how she played in all of this. I couldn¡¯t see a world where she betrayed me. I knew whatever the situation, she wouldn¡¯t have done me wrong, and I wouldn¡¯t to her. So I held my silence. Mistakes were harder to make with patient. Something my stomach didn¡¯t understand.

    As all bad men do, he came at night. I was lost in slumber, my only solace against the ravenous pit growing inside me. His footsteps were a deliberate type of heavy, over the forest winds and fire they carried to wake me up. I took no risks, Stilling my breath as soon as I heard the stranger join our camp.

 Chapter 12 |Emra

    ¡°That the women?¡± asked Gorma.

    No response came. ¡±That the boy?¡± the words came like a hiss. I guessed the man to be Emar.

    I already heard footsteps come my way before I heard Jiren reply yes. I felt the same bad feeling that would bubble in me anytime a plan went wrong in the village. As the steps loudened, chills grew on my skin. I became all too conscious of my body, I tried to keep it relaxed, but felt increasingly stiff.

    ¡°he¡¯s still uncon-¡±

    Slap! My cheek become nothing but pain. The hit felt like a sword: cold, sharp and powerful. I couldn¡¯t see them but I knew for certain my cheek had turned an angry red. A mournful scream escaped my lips. But then with a thud came a kick to my chest, I felt like all the strength was pushed out of me. The kick stole the little air I had left from my lungs, leaving me croaking.

    Now my eyes were wide open and wild. I saw a short, lean young man in a scribe¡¯s attire. He couldn¡¯t have been older than twenty, a good ten years less than Gorma and Jiren. His face was calm, neither pleased nor angry- but definitely arrogant. He stared me down, coldly watching me panic for air.

    ¡°Could of killed him,¡± Jiren mumbled, his words apprehensive, like they were scared to come out.

    Gorma¡¯s words followed quickly, ¡°Would have been right to, the boy actually faked us, nice on you Emra.¡± I could tell he was on edge by the newcomer.

    Emra acknowledged neither. His eyes still set on me. My vision had settled enough to realise what made his steps so heavy. slung on one shoulder was a woman, dressed in a familiar green dress. It was Velma.

    Velma¡¯s eyes were shut and her skin worryingly pale. I almost thought her dead, but her chest still showed small undulations of life.

    Emra seemed to be assessing my stare. Still with his calm detached look.

    ¡°Where is it boy?¡± Emra¡¯s words carried no pretence, just an arrogant will, like the answer he wanted had no choice but to come.

    I tried to gather myself to respond but words came slow. Before my lips were ready to shape a response, Emra¡¯s foot was buried in my chest again. It came too fast for me to respond. Like an axe on wood, the hit rattled my ribs. I felt a cold liquid feeling under my skin, which must have been internal bleeding. Syons. I keeled over on all fours on the forest ground, too hurt to move. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Don¡¯t waste my time boy, I won¡¯t ask again.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure what to say, I wanted to at least wait until Velma was awake, maybe she could do something with the beads, or at least tell me.

    Just in case I made sure to keep the beads from Emra¡¯s sight, shifting my weight to block his vision.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are looking for sir,¡± I said. The words coming like a nervous slur.

    This time it was Gorma to hurt me. His black boots jam into my elbow, twisting then grinding it into the ground. I felt a click and knew it broken. The pain paled to the ache in my chest, but I still screamed louder than I knew I could. I wanted to cry but all I let slip was whimpers. Weak, pitiful whimpers.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you to do that,¡± Emra growled to Gorma. The harshness of his voice somehow made my arm elbow hurt more.

    ¡°The boy was obviously lying Emra, I-¡± Gorma¡¯s words were cut short by a rush of wind. Emra hadn¡¯t even deigned to look at what he¡¯d done- whatever he done- and Jiren was too worried about Emra to move and look. I turned to look to see Gorma caved into a tree at the camp perimeter. The trees around him shaked more than they should have and after, I saw his clothes move. Gorma was knocked out so he couldn¡¯t have done anything, I thought it the wind or maybe an animal.

    ¡°Very few people would lie to me kid, I¡¯d already have killed you if you and I both didn¡¯t know I need you.¡± Emra said to me.

    I wasn¡¯t sure how much they thought I knew. I guessed They¡¯d failed to juice anything out of Velma and were trying to come after me as the weaker link. If they knew nothing I could weave a vague lie to try and save myself from more beatings without compromising anything important. But if they thought me a liar, or knew more than I did- which wasn¡¯t hard- I could be in trouble.

    ¡°I was just looking at sir, I don¡¯t know what it is, and I don¡¯t know what happened to it,¡± It took a lot out of me to lie right to his face. What made it easier where the strong notes of truth, but even hiding information made my skin crawl.

    Emra¡¯s gave me an irritated look. Then looked to Jiren.

    ¡°H-He was by himself, found him using it. Book disappeared by him.¡± Jiren said.

    Emra planted his foot on my head, shoving me from all fours to on my back. As my vision reoriented I felt another all too familiar pelt to my chest, the pain numbing.

    ¡°I swear, I don¡¯t know how to use the book, I don¡¯t know what happened to it!¡± The desperate scream not even feeling like my own. He can¡¯t kill me. He can¡¯t kill me.

    Emra dug his foot further and further into my chest, pressing deep enough to agitate the aggressive throbbing of my veins. He¡¯s face was tense and vengeful, brimming with hate like a bursting dam. I felt less and less air. A worrying amount of hypoxia. like my body was being squeezed out of breath and life. Okay. Now this was it, I thought. I wanted to sputter the little that I knew but didn¡¯t even have the life for it.

    My vision begun to lose focus, and I moved my attention from Emra. I could see the same trees from before, the ones by Gorma, moving more blurred than my sight. Then they stilled.

    ¡°Take the girl and put her in her own camp. Make sure to keep her and the boy separate. I¡¯m going ahead to take a holy sister.¡± The arrogance in Emra¡¯s voice came stronger now with anger.

    A thud.

 Chapter 13 | Velma, Orange Shrouds, And Strange Strong Men

    The pain yelling throughout my body and my heavy breaths meant I didn¡¯t even hear him leave.

    Before the orphanage I remember little, faint ideas of a women holding me but nothing more. I¡¯d been lonely in the orphanage before Jusuf came. Many days burdened by a meaningless sadness. When Lunar joined us, our days demanded stories, and we filled them with the lows and high of tragedies and comedies. And I learnt to care and to love. My two friends like siblings, like family. When Velma took us, now of us tried to make our relationship more than it needed to be, and time proved it needed to be a familial one.

    ¡°It was Lunar wasn¡¯t it? But how? That trule swore the oath, she¡¯d be dead if she did. I let her know too much didn¡¯t I? Now I¡¯m paying for it. Sage forbid,¡± Velma fumed, rambling more to herself than me.

    I made a decision: If Velma didn¡¯t know about the necklace, I wouldn¡¯t tell her.

    Velma grew impatient with my slowness. I felt the air turn tight. Her hands flashed through poses then she spat words out silently. A shroud of orange shaped around her. I leaped back scrambling on my heals to get a safe distance away.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    There was more to her grip than just muscle. I felt repelled by the shroud of orange. It felt like a small sun radiating force.

    I started to struggle for breath which quickly turned to choking. I was being made all too aware of my injuries flaring up again with the violence.

    What was wrong with her? I had never seen Velma like this. I was too paralysed by shock to fight against her grip on me. Why would Velma do this?

    Whatever this ¡®world book¡¯ was, she ran the risk of her, me and Lunar being in danger from the start. And Lunar was now by herself, in more danger than me and Velma both. She could be in worst straits just because Velma involved her in all of this.

    Slowly I realised how little I knew about Velma¡¯s past. I couldn¡¯t even attempt to guess how she got involved in all of this. No matter how much I wanted to, Velma could not be trusted. She was potentially even worse than Emra and his men.

    I knew this logically. Sages! She had just threatened my life, obviously I couldn¡¯t trust her. But slow emotions refused to let me see her as an enemy. I took control of myself, slowing my breathing, calming my thoughts, hoping I could rationalise myself.

    I realised my life couldn¡¯t be at risk just yet, her words were just a threat. I still had the beads, and if nothing else, I knew they mattered a lot. She would need them for the world book but she didn¡¯t know seem where they were yet. She couldn¡¯t kill me just yet.

 Chapter 14 | Bad Manners

    Velma¡¯s expression was cold, concentrating on charging up the attack. Her hands were together forming a sphere bigger than any of the previous attacks.

    The man leaped forward, pre-emptively attacking. Velma rushed a response, directing her hands to the man. He tried to slip to the side but the attacked honed in and moved faster, shifting towards him. The sphere hit.

    The man¡¯s eyes widened on contact. At first, I was sure it was in pain, I could see him ready to scream, but the edge of his lips straightened wide instead. There was no blast, no chaotic sparks, not even any sound to it. but I saw the man¡¯s body wry in pain, his face grimacing. He stayed standing.

    ¡°That should have knocked you out. You should have died!¡± Velma panicked. She looked tired, the attack obviously taking a lot out of her.

    The man stumbled backwards but caught himself from falling over.

    ¡°And here I thought that it all a con, there¡¯s actually a seventh domain,¡± The man was laughing but his mouth was bloody. He was hurt.

    Velma tried to remain fierce but you could tell she had little left. ¡°How¡¯d you defend that! No one should be able to defend that!¡±

    ¡°You know very little of the republic madamme, or really of much else to be honest, I don¡¯t think I ever saw you read in the tomes! A tomestress that¡¯s so badly read she hired some kids should have set off some of those haughty embers,¡± His voice was less playful now, I could tell he was trying to mask some of the effects of the attack, the pain bitter.

    He launched himself forward again. He really was fast, closing the gap between himself and Velma with ease. Velma had only used distance attacks until now, so I expected she was in weak close combat.

    As soon as he came too close, she tried to jump back, but here body was slow- at least compared to his. He swept at her leg; it was subtle but I saw his foot turn to stone just before it made contact with her shin. Velma somehow blocked, recruiting her earthen looking shroud. She¡¯d focussed more of it at the point of contact, slowing the attack greatly.

    ¡°clever,¡± The man said.

    He didn¡¯t stop there, switching stance and now raising the opposite foot to the sky. I saw pyre flow around him for the first time, blue wisps circling his movements. His whole leg changed as it rose, turning to rock in an instant, his foot enlarged, earth piling on, the whole leg now looking more like an anvil.

    Velma''s eyes were wide, "What in the..."

    Then he slashed downwards. The pressure that built crashed; it felt like moon falling.

    I couldn¡¯t handle the forces that built even from the distance I was at. I fell back landing on my arse. I had to shield myself from the air-borne debris the attack incited, my right arm was slow to block because of the injuries so a few seeped through, impaling my head. I was left laying groggy.

    ¡°Who are you two with, my family will pay you more!¡± The words were almost grovelled, I could barely tell it was Velma.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    I looked to her and saw her skin pierced all over. She was bloody and rabid.

    ¡°Hahah, you try force first and then money after? I can see why you¡¯d hide the world book for yourself, just like your father.¡±

    ¡°If you just want the Qy- world book I can give it to you, I know it better than anyone, I¡¯ll tell you all its secrets!¡± Velma sounded pitiful. I couldn¡¯t bear to hear it. My consciousness was slipping, and I was beginning to appreciate it.

    ¡°You don¡¯t even know where it is love, besides, I don¡¯t need your help learning what you know,¡±

    I wanted to see but I couldn¡¯t even bring myself to open my eyelids. I don¡¯t know If it was because I lacked the strength or the resolve. I stayed awake long enough to hear Velma final few words although I didn¡¯t know it at the time.

    ¡°No! don¡¯t! you¡¯ll trigger the seal!¡±

    ***

    I woke to the sound of busy streets: people yelling, children running and carts rolling. There was a window open and in bleed strong rays of sunlight, signalling midcycle. Still half asleep, I moved to stretch my arms. I felt my muscles working with ease. The smell of flowers and soap lifted from my sheets. My skin felt smooth and free. Everything seemed great, then dread hooked me.

    The beads were gone from my neck.

    I tried to traceback my memories, replaying my capturers and the fight that happened, but I couldn¡¯t make sense of it all.Where¡¯s Velma and¡­ was that guy Nimor? I jolted out of bed, half expecting my muscles to give at the attempt. But everything felt fine. I couldn¡¯t even tell which arm I had broken. I felt at my chest and realised I was even more bony than usual, but the skin felt firm and clean. I expected scabs and holes, and found it in better shape than it had been in potentially ever.

    I decided to look out of the window. I could figure out where in the village I was and maybe go find Lunar. I was going to tell her everything, if I did run into Velma again, I had no idea what to do. I needed Lunar¡¯s help.

    I had flash backs to how pitiful she looked which ached my heart. But her crazed eyes haunted me none the less.

    I heard the markets outside the window first, they were like the markets of Tomov, but much rowdier. When I looked out of the window, I wasn¡¯t prepared for what I saw. It looked nothing alike. The scale up in size alone was enough to make drawing similarities dumb. I realised I was several floors above ground, I¡¯d never been higher than the roof of the tomes so the feeling was unsettling. Looking down on hundreds of families milling around and men hard at work I felt small¡­ yet whole. There was something to the amount of life all in one place that made life vibrant.

    Where am I?

    Then a thought jolted my mind. Only someone rich could afford to be so high up in such a nice room. What if Elon and his entourage brought me? They wanted to get a holy sister to read my memories. Did they somehow find me after Velma¡¯s fight and take me a to a city to get one? They¡¯d be better than the ones from the village but the closest city was Kerone and that was hundreds of miles from the village.

    I Didn¡¯t want to find out. There was also the mystery of Nimor, or whoever that was fighting Velma. If he took me, I didn¡¯t trust him either. Whoever brought me here I couldn¡¯t trust.

    I was naked so looked around for clothes. I found the clothes I had been wearing cleaned and repaired placed by a wardrobe. I questioned it but decided to just put it on and leave as soon as possible.

    I opted to leave by the window. Whoever was watching me could have been downstairs. Standing by the ledge my heart raced, I tested out all my joints, muscles and bones. I needed to be sure I could none of them would suddenly flail up again. it took me a few minutes to convince myself but I made the drop, landing on the roof of a food hut and rolling on impact to brace my fall. My knees couldn¡¯t handle the shock, buckling on landing. But I listened to my adrenaline, quieting the pain.

    ¡°Leaving without even a thank you.¡± A familiar voice called from behind. I¡¯d seen no one on the roof when looking down, but I still knew the voice. I knew I couldn¡¯t outrun him.

 Chapter 15 | New World New Skies

    I needed to bide a bit of time to think. I turned around slowly, taking in the streets below. The roof was wide so I struggled to see much.

    ¡°W-where is she?¡± I asked. I was asking about Velma. I didn¡¯t expect a response but asking made me feel like I still had the power to question him.

    ¡°Dead.¡±

    The word came like a bullet, leaving me shaken.

    I didn¡¯t want to believe him but I knew it true.

    Her voice before I blacked out came back to me. She screeched as she tried to reach for her last few words. The strain of someone clinging onto life.

    A part of me thought good, she never cared for me or Lunar. But another, bigger, part of me wanted to return to Tomav. To go back to sitting cross-legged in the upper tomes, the sun shining bright through the big window, the air dusty from the books and me, Lunar and Velma reading in comfortable silence.

    The man noticed my tense body. ¡°Ease up kid, she didn¡¯t care for you, all that women cared for was money and power.¡±

    His voice carried no malice, which felt worse as any truth to it was all the clearer. I didn¡¯t want to think about Velma. That was a matter for later. But she was always obsessed with the tak¡­ no, I couldn¡¯t think about that. I couldn¡¯t just deny what he said like I wanted to either. Frustrated with my chaotic thoughts I busied my mind trying to figure out how to escape.

    So far, I¡¯d realised my best bet was to make it to the street. I had to jump down and hope he¡¯d try and avoid making too much of a commotion or using any chaos to my advantage when maneuvering the floor. I would try it at his slowest.

    ¡°who are you?¡± I asked cautiously.

    ¡°That question again. To be honest with you kid, I don¡¯t really know either.¡±

    ¡°Are you Nimor?¡± I tried.

    ¡°Some days, the beard really has grown on me,¡± he gave me a wide grin.

    He was actually willing to talk though things. I needed to make the most of it. I might even be able to get a few straight answers from him. Something had been on my mind since he said it. Well more than one. He mentioned a seventh domain too, and although I had ideas of what it was and why it was so amazing for Velma to be able to do it, I did not want to risk him thinking I knew too much or, depending on what he thought I knew, too little. ¡°You said you were from a republic?¡± I asked.

    There were five nations, all united under the church. None of the texts for the testing mentioned a republic.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°So, you know even less than she did? The blind leading the blind.¡± He rolled his eyes. ¡°The Republic is all that¡¯s worth shit in these kingdoms, while all of these kingdoms waste their talent training one craft we train them all, as it¡¯s meant to be.¡±

    He didn¡¯t sound like he was lying. And I still didn¡¯t understand why he talked so easily, I couldn¡¯t imagine this same man killing Velma. The idea was somewhere between frustrating and confusing. I refocused myself. I wanted to hear more of his story too but knew this was the best chance I had, he was impassioned talking about it and that¡¯d be when he was at his slowest to react- distracted by his own stories- even if only slightly.

    ¡°Where is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Ah you¡¯re allured? It¡¯s headquartered near those sloths of the Kingdom of Earth. We¡¯ve expanded into the other kingdom¡¯s now, but the church and the kingdom patriarchs are really-¡±

    I tried to run. It took three good steps to reach the ledge. I¡¯d even managed to time the escape with his blink, giving me an extra moment maybe. I didn¡¯t waste time with theatrics. I allowed gravity to pull me downwards quicker than I could have pushed myself off.

    It wasn¡¯t too far from the roof to the streets so I¡¯d almost reached the ground. I felt a tug on my shirt on the descent. I managed to earn a few side eyes and a yell from what looked like the owner of a food hut but no one that saw me really cared as I was yanked back upwards.

    It was almost as though a boy falling from the sky was normal here.

    I wondered how he reached me with one hand so looked up. What had grabbed me was more of a rock-based leash. It realled to bring me back to the top of the roof.

    The leash brought me back to the rooftop, morphing back into a hand as it released m and returned to the man.

    ¡°I healed you, fixed your clothes and answered all your questions, and you try to run from the bill?¡±

    I felt defeated. Unsure what I could do I gave up trying to escape. At least for now. ¡°What do you want from me?¡±

    ¡°Now we¡¯re talking.¡± He laughed.

    ***

    Everything from the entry to the forks were oversized. The waitress dropped two slabs of wood, both with juicy chunks of meat-still tender, hints of blood at their centers ¨C on the table. Nimor sat opposite me, focussed on everything and nothing at the same time. Nimor¡¯s impassivity and the redness of the meat gave me haunting flashbacks of Velma. It was all I could think about.

    We¡¯d walked into a bar in a cleaner part of the streets. Nimor said what he wanted from me needed a full stomach. To ease my nerves, on the journey I¡¯d watched the roads and learned them to be nothing like my village. The paths were wider, bursting with movement and they were somehow both dirtier and cleaner.

    Everywhere there were people: in taverns gambling, on rooftops eating, through markets shopping. I¡¯d even seen men working with pyre. Nimor said most of everyone just called it craft, except the Kingdom of Fire. Tomov¡¯s province.

    I was surprised when I saw blacksmiths using craft to power their hits. In the village, the black smiths were golds that didn¡¯t make the army. They lived well, being the strongest of the village they were considered just below embers along with the village guards. Here they weren¡¯t much more skilled. I¡¯d expected them to be able to shape their own fires, or will the shapes of their metals, but they were just like the back in Tomav with their hands and hammers.

    When we entered the room, it was just filled with men, the kind you¡¯d expect to communicate only in growls and nods. I saw a few stares at Nimor, but he gave none of them any attention. We sat next to the wall. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was more animosity than they would give to anyone else, but very few were giving me the same stare. I made a mental note, maybe I could use it to escape.

 Chapter 16 | New World New Skies

    ¡°So¡­ you¡¯re an ascetic?¡± I asked Nimor. Asking questions helped distract me from thinking too much. And it made Nimor seem more human. He was still a murderer though. I struggled to forget that.

    ¡°In the same way I¡¯m a person, I guess, but I¡¯d prefer to call myself a man, and in the republic, and really anywhere outside of the church, we¡¯d call ascetics, seers.¡±

    Nimor rarely gave straight answers, but he always answered. I didn¡¯t know why. I¡¯d yet to run out of things to ask him.

    He had an annoying bandit charm to him. He spoke in twists and turns but you would listen closely just in case there was something important in the sleights of his tongue.

    He would laugh often too, mostly at his own jokes. I tried to stay rational. In war, in conflict, people must lose, and between Velma and Nimor, Velma lost. She may have even been on the bad team too.

    Once as a child, circus folk came to perform in our village. They brought this massive boar, with large dirty tusks and had it compete against men of their own for a show. All the village folk would cheer for me the circus men. One of the men was notable though. He would taunt the boar, prodding it with his spear, kicking it whenever it missed an attack on him. He made the boar angrier and angrier. The crowd loved it. They threw coins in support until the boar managed to catch his waste with his tusk. It mauled him. Grinding his flesh and bone into a pile before anyone could help him.

    That¡¯s what Nimor felt like. He felt like the boar that had one. I was sure Velma was bad, she may have even deserved to be hunted and killed for the beads. The man mattered more than the boar to me and she mattered more than Nimor.

    So far, I¡¯d only asked about him and the republic. And he answered, often theatric. I¡¯d found out he¡¯d grown up poor, but in a happy family, in a village in the Kingdom of Earth. A horde of wind wolves attacked it. The forest by their village had eiden trees. He said they helped nourish the craft innate in all living things, and wind wolves were a result of it: wolves able to manipulate craft. They killed his family and most of his friends. He was seventeen.

    Then he went traveling in search of a way to fill the hole made and found a strong knight. He found him locked in battle against three others. He was of the Republic and the rest of the Church. The knight slew the three men and won Nimor¡¯s respect. Nimor found a way to impress the knight and became his apprentice.

    How you impress a knight of that caliber I did not ask. I had yet to ask about Velma or Emra either, I didn¡¯t know if that was because I couldn¡¯t get over Velma¡¯s death or if I was worried about where those conversations would lead. He was always friendly, usually making a joke or talking with passion. Something in me wanted to trust him. But I saw him champion the bronzes and steal from an ascetic all in the same day. I knew not to.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°You asked me did I feel it, in the forest with the keep, the pyr-craft. How-what did I do?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Ah, you did, didn¡¯t you? You felt it quick. Most of the boys were still trying to get a feel for it, even after I¡¯d been there for months. Took me ten days of training to first use it¡­ Ah, but you did have the beads didn¡¯t you, that probably had something to do with it.¡± He felt at his pocket and I shuddered at the mention of the beads.

    I was too scared to talk. I wasn¡¯t sure if I should mention I hadn¡¯t even seen the beads then, not until I found them in the tomes. But at least now I knew he definitely took them. He must have known then that they were connected to the book, and he was willing to kill Velma for that. He probably had me alive just to tell him where the rest of them were.

    ¡°I bet I know what you want to ask now,¡± Nimor said.

    I could feel my blood rushing. It was time.

    ¡°Tense again, you need to learn to relax kid, or you¡¯ll blow like Velma.¡± He smiled to himself as though he¡¯d made a really good joke.

    My blood rushed more heavy. I couldn¡¯t handle him looking so lowly at her life. I felt a cold clarity; this man was a killer. Something snapped in me. I expected my fear to rise but what came was adrenaline. I swiped my hand across the table, sending both our platters flying. I wanted to cause a commotion. I couldn¡¯t escape him. I couldn¡¯t fight him. I had to give him other trouble¡­

    Both Nimor¡¯s hands flew, morphing into cliff stone daggers and stabbing the meats mid-air. Although the plates didn¡¯t make noise, the scene was big enough for eyes to turn to us from all directions.

    ¡°This is why I don¡¯t want kids,¡± he sighed.

    ¡°Republican scum,¡± A man hollered from across the room.

    I surveyed the room and found a few eyes looking our way. All of them were dead on Nimor. If I caused enough trouble for him, maybe I could get free of him.

    I saw a vein bulge on Nimor¡¯s forehead. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen my mother, got a problem with me playing with my food?¡± Nimor half laughed, half growled back.

    I saw more heads turn. Initially, the looks were privy of Nimor¡¯s hands, but now they turned between us and the direction the slur came. Most of their eyes were expectant but some measuring.

    The man who¡¯d shouted rose from his seat and walked towards us. From the way he dressed you expected his steps to ring with the clang of gold. But his movements were sloppy and his eyes dragged; you could tell he¡¯d been drinking for a while. ¡°So, they don¡¯t even teach you enough manners over there,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe I should teach yah.¡±

    ¡°Should be interesting, I¡¯ve had plenty of lessons but none from a court jester,¡±

    The man¡¯s brow twitched. You could see he was ready to attack. When his arms rose, I expected him to charge at Nimor and swing, but instead, he punched at the air. For a second, I was confused, then it came.

    From his fist a wall of light-blue energy. Like a projection of his punch, it flew through the air, garnering size as it closed the distance to Nimor.

    This is exactly what I wanted to build to, but I expected an argument, not a full-blown, craft charged fight. This was the perfect time for me to escape. But I stayed frozen to my seat. Lost in awe at the craft.

    Something ticked inside of me. I saw Velma¡¯s pulses attacks. Nimor¡¯s kick. My mind even went back further and replayed the stories of great warriors I¡¯d heard of, now they felt more vivid, they felt real.

    I watched as the attack flew to Nimor. he¡¯d yet to move and it was nearing.

    He rose. I¡¯d only seen him morph his limbs so far, so I was ready to see him block in the same way. Instead, he did what the guy had done, his own light-blue wall forming, but wider.

 Chapter 17

    Nimor¡¯s movements were too slow. It wouldn¡¯t be able to build enough momentum. Just before the moves collided, I saw Nimor shift, raising one foot and stomping forward like he was bursting his heal through the wind. His foot drove the walls forward, the antagonizing collision shaking the moves into each other, then driving them away from Nimor, back toward the affluent drunk¡¯s chest.

    The man¡¯s body caved to the attack and flew backward, crashing into the wall he¡¯d come from.

    The room was silent, everyone¡¯s attention drawn to the scuffle.

    ¡°What¡¯s all the noise!¡± I heard a shout from above, following everyone¡¯s eyes, I realized it¡¯d come from the staircase, next to the counter at the back of the room.

    The staircase groaned as the tallest man I¡¯d ever seen came down, his width almost matching his height. He beat out Jiren by a good foot on both fronts.

    ¡°Very few men would dare make that sorta noise in my store, only one of them would be so weak they¡¯d need two moves to do it.¡± The man had reached the bottom of the staircase now and I could see him in full. His hair was a full red and his attire shabby. He looked about Nimor¡¯s age and had just about enough spots to count his years.

    Nimor was staring right at him with his hands on his hips. ¡°Now that¡¯s no way to treat, what¡¯d they call it again, ¡¯The King of the Colosseum¡¯?¡± Nimor said, plastered with a smug grin. ¡°That was just my way of knocking.¡±

    ¡°No one¡¯s called you that for a good year and no one cared then and no one cares now, maybe if you win the Titan series, till then you¡¯re still just a chump that earned me some coin.¡±

    ¡°You always give the warmest welcomes, Rakna.¡± Nimor chuckled. ¡°How¡¯s the air been?¡±

    ¡°Fresher without you, and sweater with Helen.¡± Rakna sighed.

    The two locked up in conversation, quickly taken by the patterns of friendship, and the crowd¡¯s attention drifted. I was stuck awkwardly at Nimor¡¯s side listening in, hoping to be forgotten.

    I heard them talk about battles Nimor had missed from the Colosseum. I managed to work out he¡¯d been away for months, and returned there last night, and that the Colosseum was a big entertainment source for the city, people made bets there and Rakna would profit from Nimor¡¯s battles. The colosseum had anything from petty grudges get settled by commoners, to grand tournaments with the strongest and bravest.

    ¡°Who¡¯s the boy?¡± asked Rakna.

    With the attention back on me, I started sweating. I assumed as soon as I was more of a problem than I was worth, I¡¯d be gone. And I had no idea how much I was worth.

    ¡°A trouble maker just about worth more than he costs,¡±

    ¡°What kinda family he got to stir trouble ¡®round you? You playing guard?¡±

    ¡°Bigger things Rak, moved onto bigger things,¡± Nimor said.

    I guessed Nimor meant the book and beads. I felt less burdened without them, like they meant less with Velma¡¯s death. I didn¡¯t even know how to use them. And he¡¯d probably need the other beads. So, we¡¯d have to go back to the village. If he took me with him maybe I could find Lunar. I guessed she was still in the village but she would have been set off by me and Velma¡¯s disappearance. We had been gone for days now.

    ¡°Good, you¡¯ve been wasting that skill of yours in that dome.¡± Rakna winked.

    ¡°You flatter me, don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be leaving it anytime soon though, those prizes are worth a bit of risk,¡± Nimor said.

    They both chuckled, then an awkward silence hung.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you come to me, Nimor?¡± asked Rakna.

    ¡°I could have just been showing my young friend here around,¡±

    ¡°Nimor,¡±

    ¡°Well, can¡¯t I come to see a good friend without such existential questions? Why does the sun go to the sky? Why does the King go to his throne? It¡¯s just the way the world shapes.¡±

    Rakna scratched at his head, tussling is short red strands. ¡°Since the day I met you wherever you went trouble followed, and now, with the people from the republic too¡­¡±

    ¡°Some call it trouble, I prefer adventure,¡± Nimor said.

    ¡°Y''all adventure your way right into a cell,¡±

    ¡°Speaking of adventure¡­¡± Nimor started.

    ¡°Nope, I¡¯m not coming, not again.¡± Rakna shook his head.

    ¡°No need, you¡¯d slow me down.¡± Nimor dropped his eyes to Rakna¡¯s gut.

    Rakna snorted. ¡°Helen¡¯s been treating me well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she has,¡± Nimor said. ¡°Actually, though I was planning on doing as the hydra do, to hunt alone. I just needed you to take care of this kid.¡± Nimor nudged towards me, and I assured myself ¡®take care¡¯ was meant in the friendliest of ways.

    Rakna saw my discomfort. ¡°Scythe or poison?¡± he said quick.

    ¡°The kid already thinks I¡¯m a murderer, don¡¯t give him too many nightmares,¡±

    Rakna raised an eyebrow at that.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ask, it¡¯s to do with the bigger things I mentioned,¡± Nimor said. ¡°What matters is this kid is gonna need someone loveable and smart and handsome to take care of him, and sadly the most appropriate man for it is gonna be away¡­¡±

    ¡°It never ceases to amaze me how you work in your own compliment into every conversation.¡±

    ¡°What can I say, I¡¯m a man of wonders.¡±

    ¡°There you go again. Fine, but he¡¯ll have to work for it and find his own food.¡±

    ¡°but-¡± Nimor tried.

    ¡°None of it, you think I¡¯m gonna lower my portions and miss out on some profit?¡± Rakna laughed then turned back up the stairs. ¡°I¡¯ll prepare a space for ¡®em,¡±

    He was actually going to leave me be? This is what I wanted. I could get back to Tomav and find Lunar and see Ju.

    But how? I had no money and knew nothing about, and no-one in, Tomav. I didn''t trust my odds of getting out of the city, let alone all the way back to the village.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    I couldn''t think clearly. First I tried to get rid of Nimor and now I wanted to follow him.

    I just want to find Lunar.

    I needed to accompany Nimor back to Tomav.

    ¡°I know where the rest of the beads are. I¡¯ll help if you take me back to Tomav.¡± I wasn''t lying but the words still came shakily. I knew some of the beads must have fallen in the tomes. I could help him and he could help me.

    ¡°Let me guess, the floor of the tomes when you passed out again by Elon¡¯s lackeyes? Or do you think there¡¯s more in that desk you found them in? You¡¯d think a merchant¡¯s daughter would be better at keeping Jewellery.¡± Nimor shook his head.

    I was speechless. How did he know? ¡°were you spying on the tomes even then?¡±

    Nimor sighed, ¡°I never spied on the tomes, I spied on Velma.¡± Nimor tried to defend himself. ¡°Okay that sounds worse, but I needed to, I¡¯m the good guy, trust me.¡±

    ¡°Why would I believe you when you killed her?¡±

    He took a moments thought, ¡°I haven¡¯t killed you now yet, have I?¡± he said.

    I didn¡¯t like his response. But the more time I spent with him I¡¯d grown to trust his actions more and more. I doubted he was going to kill me without cause. Though if he abandoned me in a city I didn¡¯t know, it was basically the same thing.

    He did heal me. And Velma was not, obviously, the good guy in all of this. I was still wary. He took the beads from me, though I¡¯d only just found them, it felt like I¡¯d lost something important.

    ¡°What even makes you think I killed her? Last I remember you passed out like you were labour-burdened at the campsite,¡±

    I ignored his comment, ¡°You told me.¡±

    ¡°Oh right, I did, didn¡¯t I.¡± Nimor stroked his chin. ¡°Well, that wasn¡¯t a lie... nor the truth.¡± Nimor fidgeted uncomfortably. It looked odd for him to be uncomfortable in front of me. At first, I thought it because of the people around, but his eyes made me feel like he was pitying me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the people, they can¡¯t hear us,¡±

    I started to look around and realized no one was even looking our way anymore. But I knew it didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t listening.

    ¡°Hah, you don¡¯t believe me,¡± Nimor snorted. ¡°Reach out your hand.¡±

    I was hesitant but I tried it. I slowly spread my left hand outwards, not sure what to expect. When it came, I almost jumped from shock. It felt like my hand was passing through a webbed watery glass. I could almost feel like thick air, or threads joined, resisting my hand moving outwards, slowing it until static.

    Nimor seemed to take to emotion like a candle lit to flames. He¡¯d started laughing. ¡°Your reaction was gold. You really are from the nowhere aren¡¯t you.¡± He said.

    ¡°What-¡± I started.

    ¡°Craft boy, you should have been more impressed by my hands when you slammed the steaks. This is nothing.¡± There was definitely a hint of pride to his tone.

    His ego dampened my wonder, and Nimor eased away from his laughter.

    ¡°I guess that proves it. Okay, let me just start from the beginning.¡± He said.

    And he did.

    Nimor told me he had been following Emra since he discovered Emra had stolen Rahr¡¯s eyes from the church. I did not ask how he found out. Rahr¡¯s eyes had shown there was activity from a world artefact in the village. But signals would rarely show, and when one came, it¡¯d always be brief, so they would never find the source. Nimor investigated down to likely suspects, as the signal would always remain within the village. He¡¯d investigated all the embers and then moved on to the most likely ashen.

    ¡°What did you find out about Heliar?¡± I interjected, remembering him asking about the Tak. Then Velle came to mind, her scent twirling in my mind and distracting me enough to miss Nimor¡¯s words.

    ¡°¡­interesting. He has some powerful friends in the kingdom of light too, too bad Emra killed him.¡± He responded. ¡°So, as I was saying-¡±

    ¡°Wait what? Wha-what about his children, what-¡±

    Nimor took a second to eye me. ¡°You fell for the girl, didn¡¯t you? Or did you actually consider yourself and Edric as friends?¡±

    I flinched, disturbed by how much he knew. ¡°I tutored Edric for a year, of course, of-course it matters-¡±

    ¡°So, it is the girl.¡± Nimor gave me another wink. Somehow each and every one of those winks was delivered the same.

    ¡±I don¡¯t know kid. They¡¯re Heliar¡¯s family, not mine.¡± Nimor said. ¡°From all the complaints I heard from Vam, I¡¯d have thought you¡¯d be better at lying though, I¡¯m kind of disappointed.¡±

    I chose to ignore him again, ¡°Why are you following them at all, why do you actually need the beads?¡± I asked.

    Nimor¡¯s chest lifted, and the edges of his lips tugged up. I could see he was about to make another joke. ¡°You killed Velma.¡± I said, deadpan.

    He¡¯d started for words but took to pause. When he spoke, his words sounded almost authentic. Almost.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realise she mattered so much to you, she tried to kill you! If this isn¡¯t prisoner¡¯s complex, I don¡¯t know what is.¡±

    ¡°She taught me everything I know.¡±

    ¡°And do you know why?¡± Nimor said, rolling his eyes.

    ¡°¡­the tak.¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°So, you aren¡¯t as dumb as you look.¡±

    Nothing was said for a moment. ¡°Do you know why she started the tak?¡± He asked.

    I was slow to answer, ¡°Money?¡±

    ¡°Information¡­ and then money.¡± he said, ¡°She wanted a convenient way of communicating with a bunch of informants, that way she could trade and research the Qyos without being suspicious. I still don¡¯t know how she got her hands on it, the first of them to top it off. There was also another reason for the tak¡­¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Alibi.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you, she¡¯s the daughter of a merchant, but not just any merchant family, she¡¯s from the Clearstone family. They¡¯re of the richest three merchant families across the kingdoms.¡± Nimor looked at my increasingly tensed brows.

    ¡°Forget about it, she left home as a rite of passage to learn to earn money, probably came across the first Qyos trading with a fool, hah, it was probably an idiot from your village, the texts of the Qyos are more valuable and dangerous than her whole house- most houses really, she wanted to keep it to herself rather than tell her father. So he made the tak to earn money and convince her family she was being a good little merchant daughter, while she figured the first Qyos out. She learned a fair bit too, some of the things she did¡­¡±

    I thought back to their fight. Then I remembered her scribing the informant in the tomes and lunar¡¯s ultra-hearing.¡° does the book improve your hearing?¡±

    Nimor audibly laughed. ¡°Improved listening? Why would you focus on something you can do with just craft attunement? You could learn that in a week at the academy if you were good, the Qyos, find all of those and you could make the world louder.¡±

    I squirmed awkwardly for a moment and then decided it was time to ask. I had nothing to really lose. He wasn¡¯t after my life, just information and the beads. I might as well turn the former into a trade.

    ¡°How do you know so much? I mean about me and Velma, and Heliar¡¯s family and everything. How long were you spying on us? How could you know so much about everyone?¡±

    Nimor¡¯s eyes shifted uncomfortably. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ my job.¡± He didn¡¯t look quite right in saying it, ¡°When researching where the first Qyos could be Emra and his gang were aware of Velma, but only as a daughter of the Clearstones. The only blimp she¡¯d made to society was she dropped out of the academy so she was easy to overlook. I, on the other hand, went through the academy with her and knew there was more to her. As soon as I recognized her though I scouted the tomes. It¡¯d only been a week or so. I only did it to start figuring out where she might hide the Qyos if she had it, she¡¯d been hiding the beads in plain sight the whole time though.¡±

    I figured he must have set up inside the tomes. He was probably there when I met Velle, I almost blushed. Then I remembered how ordinary the beads looked and how they were just on her desk. Velma hid them without hiding them. I didn¡¯t know whether to praise her or think less of her for it.

    ¡°You were in the academy together?¡± What he¡¯d said dawned on me. ¡°How old are you?¡±

    From his face, I could see he thought the question odd, but he answered.

    ¡°Twenty-six, I know, I don¡¯t look a day past twenty.¡±

    I was shocked but I don¡¯t know if I expected him to be younger or older. I took a mental note of the academy.

    ¡°why do you want the beads?¡± I asked. When no response came, I thought I¡¯d overstepped. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have mentioned it.

    A response eventually came, ¡°All I want is forgiveness and a home. The beads are just part of the path.¡±

    I could see he wasn¡¯t up for more questions. His voice noticeably dropping. I still felt there was way too much to know about this guy. But I could tell I wanted to like him, but I still didn¡¯t trust him.

    ¡°So, you want the beads to sell them?¡±

    He didn¡¯t answer me, instead asking a question.

    ¡°Do you know how many there are? The beads.¡±

    He didn¡¯t know there were meant to be seven? He must have tried to use them and realized nothing happened. I was about to try and lie to him, out of instinct, but this could have been a test of trust. I was tired of obscurities and maybe I could leverage his trust,h ¡±There¡¯s seven, when I woke up with Gorma and I only had three of them on,¡± the words felt the ones in the necklace you took but I don¡¯t think they do anything by themselves.¡±

    ¡°A little advice before I leave, the city is large and loud. Don¡¯t go to the blessed roads or the church, especially not the church. No colosseum and don¡¯t talk to anyone who looks rich enough to buy you.¡±

    ¡°What am I going to do¡­? And What¡¯s wrong with the church? where are you going? what if-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get caught up with what the moon does.¡± Nimor said, turning to leave.¡±Answers are always welcome, while questions often lamented.¡± With that he decided enough words were exchanged, leaving like the wind.