ã€ŠThe Elder of Mediocrityã€‹


 Chapter 1: This Story is About Something that Happened...

    ¡°Engaging stabilizers!¡±

    A series of clicks sounded as an astronaut flicked a bunch of switches. Silver gleaming metal and black buttons interspersed with flashing lights. The shuttle turned in the air, stabilizing its descent as it entered the atmosphere. Its exterior was unlike the spaceships of the early era of human exploration ¡ª when people were simply going to the moon and mars. It was one of the most advanced spacecrafts ever made, it was part of humanity¡¯s Interstellar Fleet, the fleet that conquered the stars. It was a much different time now, a shuttle capable of interplanetary flight cost as much as an urban house. Long distance space travel ¡ª from star to star ¡ª was only possible via the much larger (and more expensive) spaceships. The ships that could only be built by large megacorporations or nations. This particular ship was part of a much larger exploration fleet, a joint effort by Goggle and Balibaba.

    ¡°Stabilizers engaged.¡± A second, more feminine voice, called out.

    The first astronaut¡¯s face was obscured by a tinted visor, but underneath was an expression of intense consternation and irritation. It is so annoying when she does that! I can see the stabilizers have been engaged thank-you very much! He turned to his companion ¡ª about to give her a piece of his mind ¡ª her smaller build and nimble movements reflected in his visor. Their grey and black combat spacesuits left everything to the imagination. Well, almost everything. He decided against complaining and turned away and started staring at one of the screens intently. It began to beep furiously.

    ¡°Dammit, we¡¯re too fast, engaging thrusters!¡±

    The feminine voice called out again, ¡°Thrusters engaged.¡±

    The male astronaut¡¯s haloesque combat suit creaked as he adjusted himself in his chair and punched another series of buttons in quick succession. But the screen was still nosily screaming at him. The spacecraft¡¯s descent was still too fast. Why is everything going wrong! This is supposed to be a routine landing on a routine planet on a rou¡ª a siren started blaring in the back of the shuttle.

    ¡°Frick! Opening flaps!¡± He punched a heavy black button and the spacecraft jerked like a car smashing into a speedbump.

    ¡°Flaps have been opened.¡±

    He felt irritation rise in his chest. She was doing this on purpose, she always did this. Always. Back when they were in the academy, so damn matter-of-fact it made his bowels quiver.

    The screen stopped making noise and the alarm shut off. Their descent had been stabilized.

    He let out a sigh of relief that echoed in his breather and leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a brief moment of reprieve and rejoicing. We will live to fight another day. Damn new models and the so called ¡°Beta Edition¡±, sending us out in this stupid shuttle just because this planet is so weird. Frig, I wanna squeegee myself with a bidet!

    He adjusted his helmet and returned to examining the panels. Then a voice broke his reverie.

    ¡°The ship has stabilized.¡±

    ¡°Thanks tips, I can read the screen.¡± The first astronaut chirped as he swiveled in his chair to another set of panels. Putting a little more distance between him and his cosmonaut. The cosmonaut did not get the hint. Her chair soon swiveled after him.

    ¡°I doubt anyone can ¡®read¡¯ flashing lights and noises¡­ typically that word is reserved for words.¡± She clicked a few buttons and deftly turned her head as he turned to look at her.

    ¡°If safety protocols didn¡¯t prohibit me from taking off my helmet, I would take it off and beat you with it.¡±

    ¡°Talk about violence in the workplace.¡±

    The man cringed as he heard the beginnings of a sneer creep into her voice.

    ¡°Dammit Jill, why you gotta be like this?!¡±

    ¡°My name is Jillian,¡± came the terse businesslike reply. ¡°And we¡¯ve got a bit of a problem.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, your attitude! Ever since the Academy you¡¯ve always been ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Jackson!¡±

    Her shout caught him off-guard. He winced and meekly corrected her, ¡°I prefer being called Jack¡­¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll call you ¡®dead¡¯ if you keep aiming us for that mountain!¡± Her finger floated to a screen that displayed a large topographical shape of tightly bunched contour lines that was rapidly approaching them.

    ¡°DAMMIT!¡±

    A few unreadable obscenities, some errant corrections and sputterings of a spacecraft later they landed without a hitch. Smoke rose from the chrome exterior of the shuttle and the smell of burnt grass wafted up from the ground. The joint logo of Goggle and Balibaba was plastered loudly on the sound of the shuttle, interrupting the austere metallic finish. The side of the vessel opened up, exuding steam and moaning with the sound of hydraulics. The door opened Lamborghini-style. Two people walked out, the guy about six feet tall and the girl about a half-head shorter than him. Their faces obscured by helmets. Tinted visors blocked their eyes from the outside world and gleams of metal and interwoven carbon fibre protected their soft bodies. Though the suits were slightly bulky they were still as form-fitting as could be expected from a suit of full-body armor that could resist frag grenades and extreme temperatures. The woman¡¯s ample curves and the man¡¯s bulging muscles were outlined by their equipment. A pair of rifles peeked out from behind their backs and pistols were in holders strapped to their thighs. In their hands were a couple of flat screens with wires that ran from the machines and plugged into their suits. The machines buzzed and hummed like culinary critics as they sampled the atmosphere. The space travellers stepped off the spaceship and let their heavy boots sink into the soft grass as they surveyed their surroundings. Expressions of shock underneath both their helmets.

    The two astronauts whistled in appreciation.

    ¡°Jillian¡­ have we ever found a planet with grass? Frick¡­ are those trees¡­¡±

    Jillian regarded the screen in her hands and didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°Jillian.¡±

    She continued ignoring him and fiddled with her tablet.

    ¡°Jill.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me.¡±

    She glared at him then sighed. ¡°Jack¡­ this is really weird.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know¡­ it¡¯s like you want me to call you Jill.¡±

    She rolled her eyes at him, but before she could retort he interjected quickly.

    ¡°I¡¯m kidding, I¡¯m kidding! Yeah¡­ it¡¯s just I don¡¯t want to talk about it, it¡¯s freaking me out.¡± Jack¡¯s fingers itched as he let them hover near his pistol. This is seriously freaking me out.

    Jill¡¯s tablet beeped.

    Jack almost jumped out of his skin, ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡±

    She unplugged the tablet and slipped it in the back of her suit, the suit hissed as a hidden compartment opened and whirred shut after receiving the tablet. She pulled a rifle from her back and checked it. Its stock a metallic black, it¡¯s barrel long and a string of flashing buttons along the sides accenting it. She pressed a few buttons and twisted a silver canister that hung off to the side. Steam squeaked out of the side in a small cloud. She twisted it again. The steam stopped. She hefted the gun to her shoulder and walked slowly. ¡°I¡¯ll cover you, the air is safe, radiation levels low ¡ª lower than earth ¡ª no signs of airborne pathogens but keep the helmet on.¡±

    ¡°Like hell, I¡¯d take it off.¡± Jack stared at his tablet and pressed a series of buttons, switching to the more advanced mode reserved for Science Officers. He was after all the Science Officer on this mission and Jill was the Tactical Specialist, a sniper. They¡¯d explored an enormous amount of planets together. But never before had they encountered anything like this.

    Jack drew his pistol, balancing his computer in one hand while using his free fingers to touch the screen when necessary. The tablet beeped and hummed as the two astronauts advanced. They grew more and more tense with every step. Soon, they approached a large forest, just a few hundred meters from their shuttle.

    They both sucked in a deep breath.

    The trees were massive, probably more than twenty feet in diameter, and towered up into the sky with leafy deciduous greens blocking out the sun. It created a dark woody green canopy with shafts of light breaking through. The dull buzz of insects and the soft chirping of birds showed the forests was alive, but despite the brightness and the warmth it appeared sinister and foreboding. Like it was a mirage.

    Snap!

    A twig broke startling them. With a click the cord pulled the tablet out of Jack¡¯s hands and slurped it into the back of his suit. Both hands now free he gripped his pistol and whirled to the source of the noise. Simultaneously Jillian dropped to one knee and pointed her gun into the forest.

    Whoosh!

    They heard the soft pitter-pater of feet dashing across the ground and saw a soft brown shape leap out of the darkness.

    Jillian jerked her gun and heaved out a sigh of relief. Her barrel followed a rabbit as it darted out in front of them and then dashed into the bushes. Jack was not so relieved.

    ¡°This is insane! Frick, Jill, it¡¯s a normal rabbit! The genetic deviance from an earth rabbit is very low, so low that they probably have the same common ancestor, but that¡¯s impossible.¡±

    ¡°Buck up buttercup, there¡¯s something even weirder up ahead.¡±

    ¡°No can we stop and appreciate this situation!¡±

    Jill deadpanned and looked at Jack as if he had some sort of mental deficiency. She managed to squeeze out, ¡°Right now?¡±

    ¡°Yes! Right now! Like now now,¡± Jack was adamant, he needed to vent or he might explode.

    ¡°Give me a minute,¡± Jillian was quiet, but as she spoke she trained her rifle and held it fast, as if focussing on a distant target. Metallic clicks and whirs were heard as her suit pulled taunt, compensating for any unsteadiness and adjusting for the wind. The corner of her visor lit up briefly and her helmet whizzed as she zoomed in on a distant target.

    Jack waited impatiently, ¡°Are you listening now?¡±

    ¡°One moment¡­¡± Her helmet began to make a soft humming noise as if it was conducting a scan. ¡°Alright, make it fast¡­ you¡¯ve got 30 seconds.¡±

    ¡°Okay! So first, when we scanned the planet from outside of orbit there was nothing! Dead! Nada! Zilch! There was no life on this planet at all, we even flew around a couple times and filmed the place from orbit. I went over the footage personally, it was a dead hunk of rock in space.¡± Jack paused expectantly.

    His long-time companion knew her social cues, ¡°You don¡¯t say.¡±

    ¡°I do say! I do say! Even as we were descending the computer didn¡¯t report any signs of life until we were almost 16km from the ground, damn I thought the machines had malfunctioned!¡±

    Jillian did not miss her cue, ¡°You don¡¯t say.¡±

    ¡°I do Jillian, I really do! But now, the grass¡­ it checks out¡­ it might as well be earth grass ¡ª the bunny too! But the genetics more closely resemble the primordial ancestors of these species.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s always the primordial ancestors!¡±

    ¡°Jillian take this seriously! We are billions of light years from the nearest human colony and never ever ever! And I do mean ever, has there been even a hint of alien life in the universe. All the planets were dead. No signs of even previous life! Now, not only do we not find primordial ooze or algae, but fully functional life!¡± Jack was practically screaming through his helmet, he took a deep breath and finished his thought before Jillian could interrupt him. ¡°This is freaky¡­ there are two big questions for us. One, is there some kind of sentient life? Two, what is preventing us from scanning this planet from above the surface?¡±

    Beep! Beep! Beep!

    Jack jumped as Jillian tapped her helmet and shook her head slowly.

    Jack noticed her reaction, ¡°What is it?!¡±

    ¡°I can answer your first question, there¡¯s a sign of sentient life here.¡±

    ¡°Prick me¡­¡±

    A wry grin quirked under Jillian¡¯s mask, ¡°Heh, I think that¡¯s your job.¡±

    ¡°Did you really just say that?¡±

    Jill rolled her shoulders in what loosely resembled a shrug. Jack sighed and put his pistol away and pulled out his tablet again. He poked a button on the side and after a series of clicks and a few hisses of steam the tablet almost quadrupled in size and resembled a laptop. Jack sat down and nudged Jill.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Send me the scan.¡±

    Jill nodded. Her helmet beeped. Jack¡¯s tablet beeped in response. Jill¡¯s helmet whirred again as she tried to zoom in on the alien lifeform in the distance. There were a couple trees in the way, but her gun could pierce through them easily. She adjusted the rifle again and fiddled with the cannister on the side ¡ª adjusting the kinetic output. As more vapour shot out of her gun Jack worked furiously on his keyboard analysing the data. A few minutes stretched by. Jill was done adjusting and Jack tapped her on the shoulder after putting away his tablet.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Jill¡¯s voice was a little irate, ¡°I think we need a sample for the eggheads¡­ scans aren¡¯t good enough.¡±

    ¡°We are not killing sentient life!¡±

    Jill snorted, ¡°The scan only tells you cranial size, by our scans chimps look human too. We should go closer to the target, if it¡¯s sentient make contact, if non-sentient we tag it and bag it. We¡¯ll be famous.¡± Then in a quieter voice, ¡°And rich.¡±

    ¡°No Jill, we will not. And it¡¯s not because I think your suggestion is unethical ¡ª frig, I agree with you! It¡¯s because the scan shows this creature could be sentient that scares me¡­ think Jill¡­ if there is a sentient species on this planet and if they were technologically advanced, maybe, just maybe, they cloaked this world! That¡¯s why our scans found nothing!¡±

    Jill¡¯s voice was dry and derisive, ¡°You¡¯ve been reading too much science fiction. There were way too many illogical leaps in that for a Science Officer. Let¡¯s make first ¡ª prick.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡±

    ¡°Dammit Jack¡­ it was nice knowing you.¡±

    ¡°WHAT?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s waving¡­ it¡¯s waving at me¡­ it has no suit¡­ no x-ray vision¡­ how does it see us?¡±

    Jack brayed a loud laugh that made Jill scowl, ¡°Now who¡¯s being illogical? Why would it be waving at us maybe it¡¯s swatting a fly. Idiot, why don¡¯t you ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s waiting for you guys to come say ¡®hello¡¯.¡±

    The voice was quiet. It was masculine. It sounded very human.

    Jill leaked out a weak laugh, ¡°Funny Jack¡­ real funny.¡±

    ¡°Jill¡­ I think I just pissed myself.¡±

    Jill cursed and cocked her gun. It hummed with energy and her finger hovered over the trigger.

    ¡°Just come on down friends, I mean you no harm! I haven¡¯t met anyone from outside this world in a long time. Well¡­ to be precise¡­ ever.¡±

    The voice, despite saying something so jovial, was still dry and quiet. The two astronauts were hardly at ease.

    ¡°Jill, what¡¯s our company¡¯s policy for first contact with aliens?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Tranq¡­ or kill. No policy for sentient life.¡±

    ¡°Both of those sound unpleasant.¡± The voice called out to the two them once more. Jill¡¯s finger twitched dangerously while Jack drew his pistol. He aimed uncertainly.

    ¡°What am I pointing at?¡± He whispered cautiously.

    Jill shrugged, ¡°Why don¡¯t you go say hello, I¡¯ll cover you.¡±

    Jack glared at her under his mask, ¡°That was not the answer to my question.¡±

    ¡°As your superior officer, that¡¯s an order.¡± Jill¡¯s voice was hard. It brokered no nonsense, Jack was taken aback.

    ¡°Jill come on! We¡¯ve been friends ¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s an order soldier,¡± her voice softened, ¡°I can punch a hole through his head before he could even touch you.¡±

    Jack paused for a moment. Then gripped his pistol, squeezing it tight, and walked into the forest. With every crunch of leaves and the dull buzzing of bugs he felt the tension in his body rise. Jill had informed him that the walk was about 800 meters. It was the longest 800m walk of his life. Though the time was passing by at a snail¡¯s pace for him, he also felt like he didn¡¯t have enough time to think about all the things that had happened. For starters, their inability to detect any life on the planet was troubling. This ¡°creature¡¯s¡± ability to project its voice at such a great distance was a little frightening to say the least. It was quite possible that this race was more technologically advanced than their own, if so, Jack had no confidence Jill could kill the alien if it was hostile. But then again¡­ If the creature was hostile ¡ª and had vastly more technological superiority ¡ª then they would already be dead. Maybe the creature was genuinely curious and just wanted to chat! Maybe they even had tea on this world, or biscuits! Wouldn¡¯t that be great! Instead of being greeted with death, to be greeted with the sweet fragrance of a luxurious green¡­ Jack sniffed the air.

    ¡°¡­ Piss me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± that now familiar human sounding voice called out to him again.

    Jack wanted to do all sorts of defecation within his suit. There was a bloody picnic blanket out with hot tea and some sort of cake. He sniffed the air again. Prick me¡­ this tea smells¡­ divine¡­

    ¡°Jack what¡¯s the situation, you stopped moving, is everything okay?¡± Jill¡¯s voice squeaked in his helmet, not an ounce of concern was in her voice. But based on the content of her speech, she was concerned.

    Jack radioed her back, ¡°Lieutenant, why don¡¯t you come on down. The alien life is sentient¡­ and they¡¯ve got tea.¡±

    The radio crackled in silence, as if Jill didn¡¯t know how to respond. Soon enough, her voice came over again, ¡°I¡¯m coming, double time.¡±

    ¡°You know,¡± the alien directly addressed Jack. ¡°Typically, in modern parlance, the ¡®alien¡¯ is the ¡®foreign visitor¡¯¡­ it¡¯s a bit of a strange quirk of vocabulary to be called ¡®alien¡¯ on my own planet by a foreign invader who was talking about tranqing me and who is currently pointing a ¡®weapon¡¯ of sorts in my face.¡± He sipped some tea casually, not at all sounding perturbed like his speech had implied, ¡°It¡¯s also rude to not show your face when in the company of others.¡± He sipped his tea again.

    Jack mumbled an apology and put away his pistol and took off his helmet. The suit squeaked out steam and dust. Jack¡¯s hair was black, a very dark black, his eyes were a deep brown and over one eye was a glass screen ¡ª with green lettering flickering across it. He had high cheekbones and his jaw was squarish and chiseled. He didn¡¯t at all fit the typical profile of a nerdy science officer. This might be because he was the Interplanetary Wrestling Champion ¡ª as well as having the second highest grades in the Academy, next to Jillian. Though her grades were better, her knowledge was superficial, she lacked genuine curiosity for academic pursuits. Jack pressed a button on his helmet and it crumpled into a square. He slipped it in the back of his suit and sat down, right in front of the picnic blanket just as Jill darted into the clearing ¡ª her weapon trained on the ¡®alien¡¯. Jack shot her a look and stared at the blanket, making sure he wasn¡¯t touching it with his body.

    The ¡°alien¡± ignored Jillian, he narrowed his eyes on Jack who was sweating profusely at the scrutiny, ¡°Does my blanket displease you? Why won¡¯t you come and sit? It¡¯s almost as insulting as calling someone an ¡®alien¡¯ on their own world, talking about tranqing them and pointing a ¡ª"

    ¡°Alright! Alright!¡± Jack threw up his hands in surrender and scooted on the blanket, his suit creaking with the adjustment.

    The ¡°alien¡± looked at Jill, his face quirked into a curious smile, ¡°Ah, the female member of the species, do you too need a lesson in manners?¡±

    Jill didn¡¯t react, Jack waved at her drawing her attention, he said, ¡°Just take off the helmet put the gun away and sit down, this guy means us no harm¡­ I think.¡±

    Jill wordlessly propped her rifle in one hand and took her helmet off, shrinking it and putting it in her suit. She sat down. Her rifle still in hand and eyes closed, as if shutting herself off from the world. Her hair was red and curly, it framed her strawberry shaped head perfectly. She blinked. Her soft green eyes peeked out and were then hidden beneath her eyelids. Back straight and posture formal, she was vigilant. Small freckles were bunched up around her nose on her cheeks, moving close together as she wrinkled her nose, sniffing at the air.

    Jack faced the mysterious ¡®alien¡¯ and looked at him closely. His frame was thin and slight, slender not boney. He wore rectangle-framed glasses on his oval shaped head. His hair was black and wavy, his eyes a radiant brown, almost orange. He wore a brown waist coat with a high-necked white muslin shirt underneath. He was wearing tight tan pants with buttons along the side visible past his high black leather boots. A navy-blue coat completed his outfit and he gently swept back his hair before taking a sip of tea, the white cup was only slightly lighter than his pale skin.

    Jack did quite know what to think. The man looked like he had stepped out a of a Jane Austen novel. He definitely did not look like an alien of any kind, more like a confused cosplayer. Jack didn¡¯t quite know where to begin, or how to begin for that matter. As he puzzled over what to say he almost yelped in surprise as a hot cup of tea was shoved in his face. Jack held his hands up to refuse the drink, but the man¡¯s eyes flashed a radiant orange.

    ¡°You come uninvited to my plane, you talk about tranqing me and killing me, you point some ¡®weapon¡¯ at me and refuse to sit on my blanket and now you won¡¯t ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hehehe! How do I know it¡¯s not poisoned?¡±

    ¡°Would you rather drink from where my lips have drunk? I see¡­ that¡¯s what you¡¯re like.¡±

    Jack waved his hands furiously, ¡°This is a misunderstanding¡­ I only meant ¡ª¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s poisoned I¡¯ll kill you.¡± Jill¡¯s hard voice broke into their conversation.

    The man¡¯s face was hostile, ¡°Eh? Who said you could speak¡­ I didn¡¯t invite you to my blanket. Be silent.¡±

    ¡°I can speak wherever I want!¡± Jill¡¯s hand rested on her rifle with a light click, as if emphasizing her point.

    The ¡®alien¡¯ stared at her intently, as if measuring her, he looked at her weapon. The tea cup still sitting in his hands proffered to Jack, undisturbed by the motions of his head. Then back at her. Jill squirmed. There was something off about his gaze, like he didn¡¯t even consider her a threat. But perhaps on this world they just had never been acquainted with the good old-fashioned negotiating powers of Uncle Sam¡¯s arsenal. Jill gripped her rifle tighter and started pulling it closer.

    ¡°Point that thing at me and I will kill you both. I could have killed either of you at anytime, without explanation. You are trespassers on my property. Consider it merciful that I even bothered to give you some of my finest tea. You think you¡¯re taking a great step in trusting me? I saw two people come out of the sky on a metal box who talked incessantly about killing the locals ¡ª and you think I need to earn your trust?¡± The man was incredulous, his tone was matter-of-fact and cold. Not an ounce of warmth in it.

    Jack scratched his head. Then grabbed the cup of tea. And drank.

    Jill tried to stop him. The ¡®alien¡¯ looked at him as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

    ¡°Frig it burns!¡±

    Jack screamed in pain and Jill shouted and yanked at her rifle. Surprise flitted across her face as Jack¡¯s hand pressed heavily on her gun, forcing it back down to the ground. She almost yelled at him then noticed he was shaking his head furiously at her.

    ¡°Jill, I¡¯m sorry, it was just so hot that I reacted that way. The tea was just too hot.¡±

    Jill¡¯s green eyes flicked to the still rising steam from the teapot and back at Jack¡¯s red face. She began slowly, ¡°There was nothing wrong with the tea?¡±

    ¡°No, in fact, it was great!¡± Jack quipped, feeling energized. Damn, that tea was more than great. Frickin¡¯ tasted like a massage for my taste buds!

    ¡°I see.¡± Jill sat back down and rested her hands on her rifle. ¡°I¡¯ll wait fifteen minutes, if nothing happens to you by then, I¡¯ll try some alien tea.¡±

    The man sighed, ¡°¡®Alien¡¯ is such a misnomer. Call me James.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a very human sounding name, do you think I could have more tea?¡± Jack rubbed his neck and extended his cup, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

    James was indignant, ¡°There¡¯s no need to repeat all the rude things you¡¯ve already done. First you mock my tea for being poisoned, now you want another cup. I give you my name, you don¡¯t give me yours. What an uncivilized and barbaric culture you have.¡±

    Jack winced at being called ¡°uncivilized¡± and ¡°barbaric¡± by a man dressed in pre-Victorian era attire. Jack sniffed and asked a casual question, ¡°So¡­ you speak English I see.¡±

    Jill coughed. She hadn¡¯t even noticed that.

    James stared at Jack as if he was looking at someone who was competing with a rock for the title of ¡°Most Intelligent¡±. James poured himself another cup of tea and took a bite from a slice of cake and chewed it thoughtfully. A few minutes passed. In that time James had alternated between eating and sipping tea dozens of times.

    Jack felt the awkwardness of the situation. Jill seemed oblivious. But the damn girl was the finest engineer of awkward situations this side of the galaxy, so there was no sense in using her as a measurement. Jack scratched his head and relaxed as he remembered something very important, he extended a hand and spoke formally, ¡°My name is Jackson T. Pyramus, astronaut of the United Megacorporations of Discovery. Rank Ensign of the starship Nautilus, serial number 657890. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr¡­¡±

    ¡°James! My real name is Johann Sebastian Eisenach, but my friends call me James. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, I¡¯ve never met aliens before,¡± James¡¯ dry voiced turned so enthusiastic it almost made Jack cringe. James grabbed Jack¡¯s hand and shook it vigorously. ¡°Please,¡± James poured Jack another cup of tea, ¡°You must have questions, sit, ask!¡±

    ¡°I am sitting¡­¡±

    ¡°Eh? Oh, my apologies. This is really exciting! I¡¯ve never seen an alien before¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ I suppose, I¡¯m the alien¡­¡± Jack turned to Jill for some kind of mental support, but her eyes remained shut. He steeled himself. This is just too weird¡­ the alien is fanboying me¡­ I¡¯m an oddity. Jack cleared his mind and arranged the questions he wanted to ask in order. James waited patiently, sipping his tea ¡ª the image of the perfect gentleman.

    ¡°Okay, first off¡­ why doesn¡¯t this planet show up on scans?¡±

    James tilted his head to the side, he licked his lips as if considering the taste of the question, ¡°Scans? What are those?¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ Uh¡­¡± Jack stuttered, this was an unexpected development. THOSE DAMN CURVEBALLS! He tried again, ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ ugh¡­ take pictures from outer space of this planet¡­ what do you know about that?¡±

    ¡°What is ¡®taking pictures¡¯¡­ what an odd phrase.¡±

    ¡°Like with a camera¡­ a computer or¡­ you don¡¯t know what a computer is do you?¡±

    James shook his head solemnly, ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of those ¡®things¡¯ you are speaking of. But, people who have been outside of our world have told us that this planet cannot be found by ordinary means. The Cabal has hidden this world with some kind of spell.¡±

    Jack¡¯s jaw dropped open, ¡°Yes¡­ I see¡­ the Cabal¡­ Some kind of¡­ spell¡­¡± He shut his jaw and tried again, filing that bizarre answer away for later, ¡°So, you do have space travel?¡± This was a burning question in his mind, the alien ¡ª er ¡ª James¡­ didn¡¯t seem too surprised that they came from space. Jack was hoping for some sort of useful information.

    ¡°Some persons have travelled in space before,¡± James answer was slow and measured, his facial expression had cooled, as if put off by the question, ¡°I have not¡­ most people who leave our world do not come back. So, there are very little stories of the places beyond. This planet has enough troubles of its own anyways.¡±

    ¡°So, you have spaceships?!¡± Jack was eager, an alien space vessel! If it was a flying saucer this would be sensational. He could smell the fame and fortune.

    James was looking more and more off-put, ¡°If by ¡®spaceship¡¯ you mean ¡®flying metal boxy thing¡¯ then by no means do we have anything that looks that ugly. I think all ¡®space-travel¡¯ has been done individually.¡±

    ¡°Pardon, I don¡¯t understand what you mean by ¡ª¡±

    James spoke slowly, as if he truly was explaining something to a child, ¡°They simply get up and fly out of the atmosphere and leave the planet.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I get it, but what do they use ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Their bodies!¡± James snorted, ¡°Why would they use something so loud and impractical like a ¡®spaceship¡¯! Some people use vessels, but they¡¯re typically not necessary.¡±

    ¡°Not necessary¡­ Jill¡­ did you hear that, spaceships are not necessary for space travel¡­¡±

    Jill never misses a social cue, ¡°You don¡¯t say.¡± Her eyes were still shut, her voice was terse, but a slight shake in her hands gave her away.

    But Jack was too caught up in the moment himself to notice, ¡°I do say! I do! I really do! That¡¯s what James just told me! People just get up and walk into space.¡±

    James set down his tea with a clatter, ¡°Not to be a haggler but I think precision is important, I distinctly recall saying ¡®fly¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sorry, ¡®fly¡¯! You did say ¡®fly¡¯! That¡¯s true, well Jaaaames¡­ I see¡­ I really do see.¡± Jack was feeling unhinged, ¡°Okay, one more question¡­ why the frick do you speak English?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my Cultivation style. I cultivate in the ideal of Language¡­ I am part of a now lost school of thought, founded by the Elderweiss family. One of my side abilities ¡ª apart from projecting my voice ¡ª is to communicate in any language.¡± James smiled lightly, his voice somewhat cheery, ¡°I hear many things I would rather unhear.¡±

    ¡°Cultivation¡­ what¡¯s that¡­ like a magic of some kind?¡± Jack¡¯s tone was icy.

    James seemed to pay it no mind, he simply nodded, ¡°Though I do not like the term ¡®magic¡¯ that is a somewhat accurate description.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­ you hear that Jill, he¡¯s a magician, a real-life magician!¡±

    At this point Jill was a little too shook up for her social cue, but Jack himself was too shaken up to notice, so he simply ploughed on. ¡°He¡¯s a magician, our boy Jaaaaames¡­ is a magician. He uses magic and people fly. Dammit people don¡¯t fly JAMES! People can¡¯t use magic JAAAAAAAMES! What kind of prank is this?! Huh?! Which of the higher ups thought this would be funny! Hmph! Ridiculous, let¡¯s just mess with the Science Officer who believes in aliens! I don¡¯t know who you are JAMES! If that¡¯s even your own damn real name why don¡¯t you ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please stop this¡­ Mr. Jackson. It¡¯s unsightly.¡± James stood up and straightened his outfit. His expression severe and cold.

    ¡°There¡¯s only one ¡®Mr. Jackson¡¯ and it would be Mr. Michael Jackson to you! Friggin¡¯ stupid life¡­ Jill¡­ let¡¯s go. I¡¯ll go yell at the Petty Officer back on the ship, this whole thing was probably his damn idea.¡± Jack got up, turned heel and started to storm off. He stopped at the sound of James¡¯ voice.

    ¡°Your ship¡­ you won¡¯t be able to leave this place. When you¡¯ve calmed down and you want answers to your questions, why don¡¯t you come find me. I¡¯ll be waiting.¡±

    Jack felt his back stiffen. He ignored James and stormed off with Jill in tow, his mind reeling with thoughts of indignation and rage. This prick thinks he can tell me what to do?! Damn actor, I¡¯m a real astronaut dammit! Command thinks they can pull a fast one on me, turn me into a laughingstock! I love my life too damn much to stay here on this planet with you and this damn farce!

 Chapter 2: Fears and Tears

    ¡°I hate my life.¡± Jack drained the cup of tea in his hands and sighed.

    ¡°Another?¡± A smiling face with glasses asked while holding out a floral kettle.

    Jack extended his cup, ¡°Please.¡±

    ¡°Condolences my friend,¡± James elegantly poured him another cup of tea, then turned to Jillian, ¡°Miss?¡±

    ¡°Of course, thank you James,¡± Jillian responded warmly, her tone noticeably softer than when she had first met James.

    Jack sipped his tea and sighed. They weren¡¯t in the clearing with the picnic blanket anymore. Now they were sitting at a small oaken table in a wooden cottage at the edge of the forest. James apparently owned a few acres of land on the edge of the ¡°town¡±. If you could use such a word for this preindustrial hellhole. The ¡°town¡± didn¡¯t have a formal name, it was associated with a very large school or ¡ª ¡°sect¡± as James called it ¡ª that was nearby. The school was something like a castle. The Principal of the School (or the Chancellor) was like a noble and everyone else was just an expendable peasant. Or so James¡¯ dreary view of the world went.

    Jack nibbled on a cookie, again surprised at how similar it tasted to a good old-fashioned cookie baked by his Mamma.

    He was bored, embarrassed and angry. He needed a distraction.

    He tapped his implants and the green screen in front of his eye flashed with images, numbers and letters.

    Yes, looking at the scans of alien life should put my mind off things¡­

    He could recognize the majority of plant life he saw, there were a few oddities, but most were the same. It was a little strange to be sipping tea at a table in a cottage in an alien world, but their shuttle was destroyed when they tried to leave the planet. Not damaged. Not bruised. But annihilated by some invisible force. The state of the art spacecraft had flown about 16 km in the air and then simply smashed into an invisible ceiling. The entire front of the machine had crumpled like it had been slapped by a massive hand, the auto-eject feature had saved their lives, soon after they left the ship it had exploded in to a ball of fire.

    Good thing their suits had jet packs! But all their fuel had been used up to land safely. Jack had cursed this planet, cursed himself and almost started cursing Jillian before she smacked some sense into him. After he had calmed down, Jack noticed two things. One, communication with their ship in orbit was impossible ¡ª for whatever strange reason. Two, James had seen the whole thing¡­ and he had quite the sinister sneer on his face. A bit of ¡°I told you so¡± and some ¡°Serves you right¡±.

    Jack eyed the primly dressed alien. This man was his only hope at survival, there was no telling what weirdness lurked on this world. Jack was trying his best to just not think about magic and people walking into space.

    ¡°So¡­¡± Jack began slowly, ¡°What do you call this planet?¡±

    James sat down and opened a small book with strange letters on it. He smirked at Jack and said, ¡°What do you call your planet?¡±

    ¡°¡­Earth?¡±

    ¡°What a coincidence, that¡¯s what I call mine too. Wait, wait Jack. I have another, what do you call your sun? We call ours ¡®sun¡¯.¡±

    James is such a dick. If he wasn¡¯t putting them up for the foreseeable future Jack would throttled him into the wall. He was so petty. All he did was call him an alien and point a gun at his face! Nobody died ¡ª not yet.

    YOU DAMN ALIEN!!! Jack seethed in his mind, but maintained a calm veneer.

    He thought of trying his luck in the nearby town, but if James was telling the truth ¡ª and so far, the broken shuttle being a point in his favor ¡ª they had nowhere else to go. Not until they at least learned how to speak. And got new clothes. Their electronic battle suits were nice, but they made them look like cyborgs trapped in Victorian England! Jack recalled the town, James had to sneak them through the town to get to his little house on the other side of the forest. They had definitely seen some of the seedier places, but it was nice. The school looked nice too. The architecture was complex, and the streets were clean, but he didn¡¯t see any electrical lights or cars ¡ª even the old-style gasoline automobiles. It might be difficult to adapt to such a time period¡­ what if they didn¡¯t have sewers? Thank goodness he could just go to the bathroom in his suit, he hadn¡¯t even asked James if this civilization was advanced enough to have a flushable toilet. He didn¡¯t expect any laser operated toilets that incinerated waste. Or the high-tech matter recyclers that converted feces into pure carbon. No no. His standards were low, just a flushable toilet. Some toilet paper too¡­ no leaves. Please¡­ no leaves.

    Jack tried to be casual, ¡°What is the level of technological advancement here? Do you even have running ¡ª¡±

    James held up his hand, ¡°Now, I¡¯d love to answer all your questions, but it sounds rather tedious.¡±

    Jack felt his temper soar. Doesn¡¯t that mean you don¡¯t ¡°love to answer all my questions¡±! Jack drank his tea furiously, draining the cup. His veins bulging as he tried not to shatter the china.

    James poured him more and continued, ¡°Now if you let me touch your head, I can absorb all your language¡­ after that I can just tell you all the things that are different between our worlds.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Jack¡¯s voice was not friendly, and Jill¡¯s eyes were now locked firmly on James.

    James waved off their attention and said plainly, ¡°What is language? It is ideas. I have the ability to learn ideas or ¡®language¡¯ directly from someone¡¯s mind. If I learn what you mean by the word ¡°foot¡± I can explain how our ideas on ¡®feet¡¯ differ, if ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You guys have different feet!¡± Jack¡¯s eyes darted below the table.

    James¡¯ face contorted, ¡°It was just an example¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Jack sounded oddly disappointed.

    Jill did not miss her cue, ¡°So you¡¯re into feet eh? Is that why you told me I can¡¯t wear socks and sandals¡­¡±

    Jack ignored her smarmy comment and faced James. He rubbed his forehead, trying to massage out the stress wrinkles. This sounded incredibly dangerous and stupid and¡­ What the heck¡­ ¡°Just do it! Take all my language or whatever and just explain to me everything!¡±

    A smile spread across James¡¯ face, he reached out a hand and placed it on Jack¡¯s forehead.

    Jack gave a start. The movement was slow and simple. But he felt powerless, like he couldn¡¯t avoid the hand even if he wanted to. It was warm and soft. The hand of someone who exercised his body very little. But it was heavy. Like a massive weight on his skull, blurring his ability to think. Maybe this is a bad idea¡­ Jack tried to speak up and stop this procedure. But he couldn¡¯t¡­ all he heard was James¡¯ now distant voice.

    ¡°This may hurt a little¡­¡±

    *****

    While an astronaut was having his mind mined by an ¡°alien¡± in a small cottage on the edge of a forest (the occasional scream not withstanding) a very different scene was occurring not too far from there. A man with a broad back and a slightly pudgy belly, clothed in a dirty kimono was sitting patiently at a tea stall inside the small town adjacent to the school. His kimono was black and underneath it was another dirty black shirt. His black hair was greasy and long, but not long enough to be a mullet. He ran a hand through it sweeping it back, its inborne grease enough to hold it in place. His eyes were dull and brown and some blackish brown scruff dotted his face. He scratched his stubble. The man seemed absent-minded. And he was. One thought rotated around his head as he took a sip of black tea.

    I am so tired.

    People dressed in suits and leather shoes walked by, paying no mind to his attire or to the long katana hanging from his belt. The scabbard was black, wooden and simple. The hilt unadorned and wrapped with a rough black leather. His legs were crossed as he kept thinking about the upcoming mission.

    He was so lost in thought he didn¡¯t notice someone approach him until a shadow blocked out the sun.

    ¡°Da Shan, you ready for the mission?¡±

    The man looked up at the woman. She was dressed simply, with tan riding pants, high brown leather boots and a loose-fitting silk shirt. A grey waistcoat completed her outfit, the masculine choice of clothing did little to disguise her gender. Sandy brown hair done up in a pony tail and mischievous blue eyes and red lips cut her the perfect image of a damsel in distress, except she was the damsel that would cause distress.

    ¡°Hey Da Shan, are you listening?¡±

    The man called Da Shan sipped his tea and then set down his cup. He poked his pinky in his ear and dug out a wad of earwax. The woman didn¡¯t even react ¡ª as if she was used to this kind of behaviour. The man rolled the wax in his fingers into a ball, then flicked away the ball of wax and gestured to a chair at his table.

    She nodded and sat down. There were a few empty cups at the table, no doubt for the rest of the people on the mission. She poured herself a cup and sipped contentedly and glanced at the tea shop. The tea stall was made out of dark wood and was portable, there were a bunch of areas in the town with tables and chairs ¡ª for relaxation, conversation or even chess. The stalls migrated through town peddling their wares at these public oases.

    Da Shan waved at the stall owner for another teapot. The man walked over bringing an ornate white china teapot with steam rising out of the spout. Da Shan slipped him a couple silvers, the man nodded and returned to his work.

    ¡°So, Da Shan,¡± the woman turned to face him, ¡°Are you ready for this mission?¡±

    Da Shan nodded slowly, ¡°Cindy, I¡¯m always ready.¡±

    Cindy smiled and brushed back a strand of sandy brown hair, ¡°This is my last mission before I get promoted. We¡¯ve been on a lot of missions together, haven¡¯t we?¡±

    Da Shan nodded stoically.

    Cindy smiled, waiting for him to respond. Silence stretched on between them. Cindy coughed awkwardly, ¡°I have enjoyed our missions together.¡±

    Da Shan nodded again, his face so neutral it was practically painful.

    Cindy pulled her teacup closer, ¡°I have really enjoyed our missions together.¡±

    ¡°That is good to hear,¡± Da Shan¡¯s tone was so devoid of emotion it almost sucked the life out of Cindy.

    She sighed and leaned back in her chair, ¡°Has anyone told you you¡¯re bad at conversation?¡±

    He looked at his cup. He scratched his head, letting white snowflakes fall to the table. It was as if winter came every time he scratched his head. White flakes of dead skin from his scalp settled in his tea. Da Shan drank the tea.

    ¡°¡­Well¡­ Aren¡¯t you going to say anything?¡±

    Genuine surprise flickered across his face, ¡°Oh, that was a question?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it was.¡± Cindy tapped her foot impatiently and waited again. She felt irritation rise in her throat. ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Dammit Da Shan answer!¡±

    ¡°Oh, you wanted an answer.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I do!¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Da Shan, are you going to answer me?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you wanted an answer now?¡± Da Shan shook his head softly, his neutral expression turning sagely, ¡°You need to be more clear Cindy. Words are very important, it¡¯s easy to misunderstand.¡±

    ¡°Oh, forget it!¡±

    ¡°What are you two fighting about?¡± A deep baritone voice called out as a tall black man wearing a loose grey shirt and black pants walked up.

    Da Shan sighed emphatically, ¡°If only I knew!¡±

    ¡°Whatever, Cindy forget about this Da Shan guy, he¡¯s just a mediocre loser. Come on¡­ let¡¯s go. We have a mission to do.¡±

    Da Shan didn¡¯t react to the verbal barb, he merely offered a cup of tea, to which the black man shook his head.

    Cindy sighed and stood, ¡°Let¡¯s go Da Shan, there¡¯s ten more people waiting for us. We¡¯re ready to go Captain.¡±

    The black man nodded. Then turned and walked off. Cindy got up quickly, smoothed out the creases in her pants and fell in step with the Captain.

    Da Shan mumbled to himself about ungrateful and wasteful people who didn¡¯t finish their tea and decried the state of society for a few seconds. He then downed his cup and then Cindy¡¯s. He took a quick look at the stall, just to make sure the merchant wasn¡¯t looking, and reached into the teapot and pulled out the leaves. He grinned evilly as he pilfered the barely used tea leaves, wrapping them in brown paper and stuffing them in his pocket. Then ran to catch up with Cindy and the Captain.

    ******

    ¡°So, there¡¯s no electricity¡­¡± Jack was pacing in the small cottage as Jill sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. ¡°Frick¡­¡±

    James nodded from where he was sitting.

    Jack kept pacing, ¡°There¡¯s no guns¡­ no cars¡­ no planes¡­ no computers¡­¡±

    James nodded again. As if this was a very normal thing.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing here¡­¡±

    James cleared his throat, ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s not that there¡¯s no electricity¡­ just very little¡­ and apparently some sort of ¡®gun¡¯ has been recently invented. But it¡¯s not anything remotely close to what you¡¯ve got.¡± James gestured to the rifles protruding form their backs.

    ¡°Dammit! There¡¯s nothing here! How the frig are we supposed to get back?! We¡¯re shipwrecked like Robinson Crusoe¡­ dammit!¡± Jack ran his fingers through his hand furiously.

    James wiggled his eyebrows with bemusement, ¡°If I can call you Friday I¡¯ll tell you about a way off this world.¡±

    Jack whirled around and slammed his hands on the table, his eyes wild, ¡°Good glory man, don¡¯t just sit there, out with it!¡±

    James flattened his lapel, ¡°If you cultivate to the Admiral Grade you can probably leave this planet. Or if you amass a fortune ¡ª maybe obtain a valuable item ¡ª you can probably convince someone to take you off this planet.¡±

    Jack¡¯s face went incredulous and a smack resounded as he slapped his forehead, ¡°Yes, why didn¡¯t I think of that! Jillian! Did you hear?¡±

    Jill, always on time with her cues, ¡°Oh indeed I did Jack.¡±

    ¡°Dammit Jill, all we have to do is cultivate!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what the man did say Jack.¡±

    ¡°Or become billionaires!¡±

    ¡°Easy as one-two-three!¡±

    Jack turned and glared at Jill.

    She quirked a mischievous smile. Eventually his harsh stare elicited a sigh from her. She stood and patted his shoulder gently, ¡°You¡¯re so melodramatic.¡± She walked over and stood in front of James, she levelled an inscrutable gaze towards him. James returned it casually. She began slowly, ¡°Explain James¡­ what¡¯s cultivation and how can we help out around here. We want to earn our keep.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and what do you intend to do with your earnings?¡± James sipped his tea and broke eye contact, as if the idea was disinteresting to him.

    ¡°Pay you to teach us the language, we can ¡ª¡±

    James held up a hand, stopping Jill¡¯s pleas, ¡°What I received from Jack¡¯s brain is compensation enough for a thousand lifetimes worth of favours.¡± He looked down at his hand and opened and closed it thoughtfully, ¡°You people are interesting¡­ there are so many interesting ideas in your heads¡­ I would help you free of charge!¡± James smiled at them, ¡°But I do have an errand I would like you to run for me, for unspecified¡­ reasons¡­ I cannot leave this forest for now. I would like you both to go to town for me and deliver this letter.¡±

    James pulled out a letter from his pocket. The movement was so smooth and there was no crinkling of paper as it came out. And the ¡°letter¡± was far bigger than his pocket. In fact, the letter was not a letter, it was a package. It was a massive box, almost the size of James¡¯ torso.

    Jack stared at him, his mouth open in shock. His jaw snapped shut. He pulled out his tablet with a snap and his fingers leapt across the screen like an Olympic jumper.

    Jill stared in bewilderment at James¡¯ coat pocket. She looked at the ¡°letter¡± slowly, her body completely frozen, she whispered, ¡°Was that¡­ magic?¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    James deadpanned, ¡°What, an alien can speak your language, he can read your mind, but what really surprises you is the box? Come on.¡±

    *****

    Da Shan, Cindy, the Captain and a bunch of other people ¡ª dressed in suits, dresses, jackets, jeans, you name it! ¡ª were walking down a forest path. Da Shan was ahead of them by a couple feet. Cindy and the Captain followed, walking side by side. There was a group of people walking in the middle and a rearguard, watching their backs. Their formation was military. Though their steps were uneven and their chatter boisterous, they all gave off a deadly aura. Everyone of them were trained warriors. Experts in their craft. A spear was seen here. A bow and arrow there. The occasional sword as well.

    They were Cultivators.

    Most Cultivators had a ¡°dimensional-pocket¡± and could store items in it and pull them out as required. It was like a massive backpack that weighed next to nothing and could fit things in it much larger than itself. Very often, for missions, they would carry their weapons outside of their pockets and on their persons ¡ª just to be safe.

    Though their tones were light and cheery, their eyes were vigilant. Da Shan¡¯s silence at the head of the column belayed the seriousness of his role.

    *****

    Jill¡¯s face was incredulous, ¡°So, you guys have just invented the light bulb, you¡¯ve got some sort of¡­ flint lock guns?¡±

    James nodded.

    Jill continued, ¡°But you¡¯ve got interdimensional storage spaces?¡± She turned to look at Jack, who after reviewing the words and numbers on his screen nodded numbly, shock plastered on his face.

    James nodded.

    Jill stared, ¡°That you just walk around with?¡±

    James nodded for the third time.

    Jill sat down on a chair, as if unable to process this information, ¡°So¡­ what exactly is a cultivator?¡±

    ¡°Me, I¡¯m a cultivator.¡± James gestured expansively, his expression patient. ¡°It¡¯s what allows me to speak all these different languages and to learn ideas directly from someone¡¯s mind. But it does so much more than that.¡±

    *****

    The Captain turned to Cindy. Her face was transfixed on Da Shan¡¯s broad back, her blue eyes twinkling with delight as his poor excuse for a hairstyle bounced around while he walked.

    The Captain sighed and shook his head, ¡°Cindy, why do you like this fellow? He¡¯s only Lieutenant Grade¡­ and apparently he¡¯s been stuck at that level for over fifty years.¡±

    ¡°None of your damn business Cap¡¯n.¡± Her tone wasn¡¯t harsh, but it was final.

    He sighed again.

    She put her dazzling blue eyes on him, he winced at the attention. This girl was Captain Grade, just as strong as him. Except she was a lot younger and had a lot more potential. Plus, she was extraordinarily beautiful in her own way. It was no wonder some of her students at the school had started a fan club for her.

    ¡°Captain,¡± she emphasized his full name, ¡°Tell me the mission objectives one more time and¡­ just remember¡­ you an I both know that Grade doesn¡¯t determine a cultivator¡¯s strength.¡±

    The Captain rolled his eyes, but complied, ¡°Mission is simple. Inquisition. There¡¯s a coven of witches somewhere in the forest. Probably found some very rare herbs for their potions and spells. Bring back their heads¡­ standard.¡±

    Cindy nodded slowly, considering the information. She knew this mission, but something just didn¡¯t smell right. A coven of witches, so close to the Sect? The war with the witches had been going on since people could first cultivate and caste magic. It¡¯s not as if the witches didn¡¯t know they weren¡¯t welcome. Plus their school was one of the strongest in the country, not to mention their Chancellor.

    The Captain continued, ¡°We have about twenty men, there are supposed to be only three witches¡­ their strength is unknown. But, it¡¯s unlikely they¡¯re over Captain Grade.¡± He popped a cigar in his mouth and straightened his black overcoat. And dusted off some ashes from his loose grey shirt. He continued, chewing the cheroot loudly, ¡°We¡¯re supposed to pick up a token from some guy named James¡­ supposedly he¡¯s got some tool that will help us find the witches.¡± He passed his eyes carefully over the forest. ¡°We don¡¯t have it¡­ but who cares, never needed anything like this before.¡±

    *****

    ¡°You need to take this package and give it to a man named Da Shan, he¡¯s wearing a black kimono and¡­ well¡­ not many people wear a kimono around here. He stands out.¡± James beckoned them to the door.

    Jack¡¯s eyes were wide, ¡°You have kimonos?¡±

    James paid the astronaut no mind, a pair of blue rings floated over to the two of them. ¡°If you find yourself in a situation where you need to talk, touch the gem on these rings. You¡¯ll be able to communicate in anyone¡¯s language for an hour. But then the rings will turn to dust.¡± James shook his finger at them, ¡°Use them wisely, they¡¯re expensive!¡±

    Jack¡¯s expression was intense, ¡°You have Japanese kimonos?¡±

    James rolled his eyes, ¡°Though uncivilized we are fashionable. Oh, and take these two rings.¡±

    ¡°But, Japan!¡± Jack almost sputtered.

    ¡°All in due time, settle down you otaku!¡± James quirked a wry smile.

    Jill let a small smirk cross her face as Jack¡¯s face turned beet red, he flapped his arms as he squawked defensively, ¡°Then why did you dress us in such tight clothes!¡±

    Jack¡¯s bulging muscles could barely be contained by the tight button-up shirt, brown riding pants and slim leather boots he had on. The same outfit hung loosely on Jill, much more comfortably.

    James grinned at them both, ¡°If you want to be captured and interrogated by a cultivator much stronger than me, be my guest! Wear those astronaut suits and walk around carrying rifles, I¡¯m sure you won¡¯t look suspicious at all.¡±

    ¡°I feel so defenseless¡­¡± Jack undid his top button, revealing a glaring red line of irritation along the base of his neck.

    ¡°You have your pistols.¡± James was nonchalant, ¡°Those can kill most of the cultivators, wizards or Psykers you will encounter.¡±

    ¡°James,¡± a soft female voice called out.

    Jack and James¡¯ eyes widened. It was the first time Jill had directly addressed their ¡°alien¡± friend. James himself seemed a little shocked, he motioned for her to continue.

    ¡°What exactly is a cultivator?¡± Her tone was full of genuine curiosity.

    James sighed and leaned back in his chair, its wooden frame groaning under the motion, he began slowly, his tone serious ¡ª like he was giving a lecture, ¡°Everything is in motion¡­ though it all appears to be standing still, yet it has tiny parts that are moving and ¡ª¡±

    ¡°NO CARS, BUT YOU HAVE KNOWLEDGE OF ATOMS?!¡± Jack blurted out, startling everyone. He looked around bashfully after realizing the volume of his outburst.

    James ignored him and continued, ¡°In order for things to move they must have energy, there is energy all around us! Though it is in different forms we can access this energy if we match our efforts to the material. Metal can be melted in flame. The metal can shatter stone and cut wood. Then coal and wood can combust and melt metal. What binds all these different things is energy, it''s what allows them to interact. But they each produce different effects and are accessed different ways.¡±

    Jack looked like he was about to speak, but James raised a hand stopping him and directly addressed Jack, ¡°I know¡­ your science doesn¡¯t work like this, but I am just telling you the principle. Energy exists everywhere and it is by siphoning the energy ¡ª or the motion ¡ª from everything around us that we stay alive. A cultivator simply draws more of this energy in and retains more than the average person. He then harnesses this energy. Perhaps by drawing on fire he can generate flame, by directing the energy to his muscles he can increase his raw strength, by pulling from stone he can make his body more rocklike, et cetera.¡±

    Jack and Jill both nodded mutely. It made no sense. But nothing here made sense.

    James shook his head and sighed again, ¡°I had hoped to teach you how to cultivate, by experiencing it for yourselves ¡ª the power, the increase of lifespan ¡ª you just cannot doubt what I¡¯m saying.¡± James looked at the clock on the wall and his face flashed with anger, ¡°Go quickly, dammit! We¡¯ve wasted too much time, I should have just used a courier, go! Find Da Shan! They need this letter now, they probably already left the town, go! Run!¡±

    The two astronauts jumped at James¡¯ intensity and ran out the door. It wasn¡¯t just his intensity that spurned them on, it was a sense of fear. Like a primordial instinct their bodies obeyed his command before they had even processed it. Jack¡¯s mouth was too frozen for a sharp quip, and as the two of them bolted out the door they shared a glance of mutual trepidation.

    Jack taped his right temple and a glassy square filled with green numbers hovered over his eye. Jill did the same. They didn¡¯t have their tablets or their suits, but they still had their implants and their genetic modifications. Jack¡¯s hand fell to the pistol at his hip. And these bad boys.

    Jack¡¯s eye screen flashed and Jill¡¯s beeped in response.

    She glanced at her screen and mentally clicked on Jackson¡¯s name in her contacts, bringing up the message.

    Idiot Jackson: Use text only. James can hear everything.

    Using their implants they could type out messages in their minds and wire them to each other¡¯s interfaces, it was called M. S. En or Mobile Systems Encryption. Soon Jack¡¯s implant beeped in response, Jill had sent a message.

    He clicked on her screen name with his mind.

    The Love of My Life: Not everything.

    He looked at it and sighed, he could sense the sarcasm dripping from it. He tossed the boxy so-called letter from hand to hand and monitored his breathing. They needed to pace themselves.

    Idiot Jackson: Is it so hard to just say yes?

    The Love of My Life: Piss off.

    ¡°Dammit Jill!¡±

    Jill slipped him a sly grin and a small giggle escaped her rosy lips. Jack felt his chest tighten and his heart pound. Dammit¡­ she¡¯s so cute when she laughs¡­ er¡­ whatever it is she does.

    While the two astronauts were messaging with each other frivolously, James had more important things to do. In the little wooden cottage, he stilled himself on a chair. Breathed deeply, closed his eyes and focused. He needed to find Da Shan, relay his location to the astronauts and ¡ª if possible ¡ª keep tabs on the witches and join the battle if necessary.

    The air in the cottage cooled and the light streaming through the windows slowed.

    James strained, his body pulsed and quivered with a vibrant energy and what looked like shimmering strings frolicked underneath his skin like fluorescent tattoos. He was a Cultivator and he drew energy from sound itself. The whole process of communication, understanding and thought. If people made enough sound within his range of influence, he could find out exactly where they were. He was nervous.

    I hope I¡¯m not too late¡­ something just feels wrong.

    He strained, letting all the sounds of the forest soak in. Soon he heard the chatter of soldiers, the stomping of feet and the occasional loud laugh. It was the cultivators.

    Oh, I¡¯ve found Da Shan. Dammit they¡¯re in the forest already!

    James¡¯ mind whirled as he thought of the potential disaster an occultish ambush would bring to Da Shan¡¯s team. I promised Katherine Da Da¡­ but you¡¯re making my life so difficult! Frick! Okay¡­ calm down James. Let¡¯s just find the astronauts and direct them¡­ it shouldn¡¯t be ¡ª eh?

    James¡¯ eyes opened wide in bewilderment. His inner thoughts now audible from shock, ¡°They¡¯re not talking¡­ their footsteps are too quiet¡­ I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t find them. DAMMIT ALL!¡± James¡¯ shout cracked the table and the door seemed to buckle under its force. He clenched his fingers until blood came, straining to hear the slightest sound the astronauts made.

    Sound! Sound! I need sound!

    James slapped his thigh and pulled out a old cello from his pocket. The cello looked worn from use, the wood scratched and its deep red stain faded. But its strings were still taunt and tuned. He fumbled around in his jacket and pulled out a bow. Testing the bow, he gripped the antique wooden frame of his cello and brought it close to the chair he was sitting on.

    He breathed deeply.

    And played.

    But no sound came out.

    James looked confused.

    He played again.

    But still no sound came.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?!¡± He screamed at his hut, only to find his once matchless voice had grown small and feeble. His orangey brown eyes dimmed with horror.

    They¡¯re already here!

    *****

    ¡°Da Shan.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s surly form whipped around, his eyes glassy and devoid of emotion.

    The Captain jerked back a bit. The damn guy¡¯s face always looks like a dead fish. He waved Da Shan to slow down and match their pace. The kimono wearing cultivator fell in step with them. ¡°Do you sense any of the witches?¡± He asked.

    Da Shan paused, his hand gently touched the hilt of his katana. His body tensed up and he sniffed the air gingerly. His muscles clenched visibly and hung his posture low.

    Cindy¡¯s awareness shot up. The Captain cracked his knuckles and doubled his vigilance. Da Shan was mediocre, but his sense for danger was unparalleled.

    Da Shan inhaled sharply and stopped. The entire column stopped with him. An eerie stillness hung in the air and the cultivators looked around nervously, as a small icy sense of unease gripped each of their spines.

    Their formation tightened.

    The Captain clenched his fists and spread his legs. Cindy slapped her pocket and a spear bounced into her hand. Growing from tiny to over two meters in length within a moment.

    The Captain shuffled forward, ¡°Do you sense the witches?¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s voice was hushed and breathy, his tone strained and harsh, but his word was clear and well pronounced, ¡°No.¡±

    The Captain had to do his utmost not to slug Da Shan in the face.

    Just as the column relaxed, Da Shan¡¯s voice came out again, ¡°I don¡¯t sense them¡­ but I smell them¡­ blood¡­ fire¡­ stone¡­ ash¡­ they are near.¡±

    ¡°Let''s get the drop on them, move, double time!¡± The Captain¡¯s voice barked.

    Da Shan dashed forward, and the column sprinted after him.

    *****

    Idiot Jackson: It¡¯s strange that the alien hasn¡¯t said anything to us. How do we know we¡¯re going the right way?

    The Love of My Life: We don¡¯t.

    Idiot Jackson: Dammit Jill, why do you have to be so rude to me!

    Jillian snorted as Jack¡¯s implant beeped with her next message.

    The Love of My Life: Why do you have to be so whiny.

    Idiot Jackson: Jill!

    The Love of My Life: Face it buttercup, you¡¯re a masochist. As a friend, I¡¯m just doing you a favour by feeding into your sick fantasies.

    Idiot Jackson: ¡­

    The Love of My Life: What the frig is ¡°¡­¡± supposed to mean? Don¡¯t deny it Jackson! Why else would you want to stick around and be my friend.

    Idiot Jackson: Well¡­ maybe there are other reasons¡­

    The Love of My Life: I think friendship is a good enough reason.

    The Love of My Life: Dick.

    The Love of My Life: So, you just come for the view? To satisfy your desire for aliens? What about me?

    Jack didn¡¯t know how to respond to this tirade, but he felt a flower of hope bud in his chest. Jillian seemed offended that he didn¡¯t see her as his main reason for joining the exploration team. He spared a glance to Jill, almost eager to see the look on her face.

    He was filled with regret.

    Idiot Jackson: DAMMIT JILL! STOP MESSING WITH ME!

    The Love of My Life: Heh.

    They jogged on for a moment in silence for a few more minutes. But their rapid pace made their legs tired and weak. Cybernetic enhancements and genetic engineering aside, they were still human.

    The Love of My Life: Why are we still running?

    ¡°Oh,¡± Jack let the word escape his lips as he slowed down to a light jog. Jill followed suit and they soon reached the foot of a hill. Slowly they made their way up the hill in silence, even the beeping of their implants had stopped.

    Jack sniffed the air, ¡°It smells like fire.¡±

    Jill wrinkled her nose but didn¡¯t respond.

    Jack sniffed again, ¡°It smells like¡­ burning¡­ flesh?¡±

    ¡°Prick me.¡± Jill¡¯s hand dropped to her thigh, hovering over her pistol.

    The crouched low and advanced slowly. Careful not to appear hostile, while maintaining caution. Their steps made almost no sound as they walked on the soft grass up the hill. As they crested the hill they were greeted with a sight that made their hair stand on end.

    There were two men and a woman huddled around a boiling cauldron. The pot was large, black, greasy and stained. Bones and coals were underneath, burning with an unnatural flame. The people were tall, almost a foot taller than average. The two men had long flowing black robes, bedecked with gold trim and fancy buttons. Each had a white cotton shirt and tan riding pants peeking out underneath. The woman also had an ornately decorated robe, but instead of pants and a shirt, she wore a flowing red corset dress that was pulled tight, accentuating her figure. The woman was beautiful. The men were handsome. If not for the smell of burning flesh each of them would have looked like characters right out of a fairy tale, all their features were flawless and their figures well-shaped. They turned a regarded the astronauts with a bit of quaint curiosity. Their chatter in a language incomprehensible to the spacemen. But the smell of charred meat and the sight of bones was more than they needed to see.

    The three figures took a step towards them, as if trying to get their attention, but their words were unintelligible to the astronauts.

    A lightbulb went off, Jackson and Jillian remembered the rings James had given them. The astronauts touched the rings on their fingers. The rings burst to life with a small hum and the robed people tilted their heads inquisitively and focused on them. Their intra-group chatter abandoned.

    The woman focused her mesmerizing eyes to them, ¡°You are interesting¡­¡±

    They could communicate now. Jack blushed and bowed, ¡°Typically, it is more polite to begin with introductions. Ahem, dear lady my name is ¡ª"

    The woman¡¯s snort interrupted Jack, ¡°I have no interest in you¡­ this girl¡­ yes you¡­ you¡¯ve never been with a man it would seem? I need a closer look.¡±

    Thump!

    With the twang of a bass string, she moved, crossing a distance of tens of feet in an instant. Jackson and Jill jumped. The woman had seemingly teleported, her bouncing black curls the only indicator that she had moved at all. She rested a gloved hand on Jillian¡¯s face, whose eyes were wide.

    Paying no mind to their surprise, the woman traced Jill¡¯s cheek carefully, ¡°Hans¡­ her body is perfect¡­ all the material is well formed, as if she were an Anatomical Cultivator. Her parents must¡¯ve been of great stock.¡±

    One of the men smiled evilly in response, his handsome face warped into a vulture-like visage.

    Jill couldn¡¯t move. Like the woman had cast a spell on her. Jill was helpless as the woman¡¯s fingers poked and prodded her skin and teeth. Her eyes screaming silently.

    ¡°Hey! Get your hands off her, or I will shoot!¡± Jackson shouted. The package had fallen from his hands and a pistol was in its place.

    The woman ignored him.

    Jackson¡¯s hands shook. But he steadied his grip.

    The woman in the red dress smiled hungrily at Jill, ¡°She will be delicious.¡±

    Jackson felt his hair stand on end.

    Bang!

    Bang! Bang! Bang!

    Without thinking, he had let loose a barrage of bullets

    Thump.

    The sound was softer this time, but the woman had vanished, and the bullets tore through the empty air, hissing as they flew. Jackson moved, but Jill moved faster, the spell had been lifted. She bolted backwards with her pistol drawn and her gaze heavy

    The robed people looked on with expressions of amusement.

    One of the men laughed loudly, ¡°Cecile, don¡¯t scare the locals.¡±

    The woman in the red dress smoothed the edges of her robe with a smile, ¡°Gentlemen, there¡¯s no need to play nice, neither of them are Cultivators. I am sure of it. The weapons they have are¡­ interesting¡­ but far from dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The two men licked their lips. They whispered softly, ¡°Fresh meat¡±.

    Before Jillian or Jackson could respond the two men charged, like the rush of racehorses, they dashed towards the two astronauts, kicking up dirt as they ran. While the woman hung back.

    Bang! Bang!

    Jill fired a ferocious volley and shouted, ¡°Move Jackson, flank them!¡±

    Jackson sprinted to the left fanning out and letting loose with a hail of bullets that drove the two robed men back. The men tried to defend themselves, pillars of light and shields of shimmering air appeared in front of them, stopping bullets at the last minute. But the men couldn¡¯t sit still, Jackson was not going easy on them.

    Seeing the two robed men were distracted, Jill tried to keep one eye on the woman called Cecile, took aim, and waited for the perfect shot. But it was a mistake.

    Thump.

    With the sound of a corked bottle popping the woman with the red dress, materialized in front of Jill. Her grin wicked and her hand outstretched as if reaching for her soul.

    Jill cursed under her breath and ripped herself from aiming at the men and fired a bundle of rounds point blank at the woman.

    Cecile threw up a glassy screen that shattered when it was impacted by the bullets, and took a few steps back, managing to escape unharmed. She had a playful grin on her face and advanced again trying to seize Jill¡¯s wrist.

    Jillian dropped backwards and pumped a handful rounds out. The woman in red seemed to be made of paper, she elegantly blew in the breeze avoiding Jill¡¯s shots. But Jill¡¯s pistol had plenty of ammo to spare. She fired continuously. Shot after shot rang out.

    Cecile¡¯s face went from playful to neutral. Then from neutral to strained.

    Then finally blood and a scream.

    One of Jillian¡¯s bullets ripped through Cecile¡¯s shoulder, Jillian took advantage of the reprieve and slapped the side of her pistol while creating distance between them. Flaps opened from the side of the gun like a plane as steam whooshed out into the air ¡ª cooling down the firing mechanism. She didn''t have time to finish of Cecile, Jack needed help. Jill quickly moved towards Jackson, whose pistol was rapidly overheating as he struggled to keep the two robed men at bay. They seemed to be less powerful than Cecile and incapable of this teleportation business. If not for that¡­

    Jill shuddered at the thought. Then put it from her mind. She took aim and punched a couple buttons. Her pistol hummed with energy. She braced herself and squeezed the trigger, aiming for the closest enemy.

    BANG!

    The sound was almost three times as loud as an ordinary shot. Two rounds whistled through the air and the force from the blast almost knocked her to the ground. The robed man tilted his head back, evading one of the high velocity rounds. But he didn''t see the second one coming in at a low angle. The super-charged shot punctured through one of his calves and he shouted in agony, clutching his leg, trying to stimmy the bleeding from the apple-sized hole in his leg.

    ¡°Jackson, tactical retreat!¡± She screamed at the top of her lungs. She punched her gun open again, steam poured out as her mind raced. They can dodge bullets¡­ all bloody hell¡­ they can dodge bullets.

    Jackson nodded and let loose with some suppressing fire on the last man standing, when Cecile shouted over the din of battle.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear me idiots! I said we only need the girl alive.¡± Cecile tore one of her necklaces off and slapped it to the ground, a blue bubble shot up around her. She shoved her fingers into the wound on her shoulder and tried to dig out the chunk of metal. She scowled through the pain and raged, ¡°Kill them!¡±

    Dammit, shut up woman! Jill screamed in her mind and fired a couple shots. Jill was startled. This new shield didn¡¯t even react to her bullets. This is bad¡­ ¡°JACKSON!¡± She shouted.

    Cecile¡¯s eyes were wide with fury, if she didn¡¯t put up that shield she would be dead. The metal slug in her shoulder had made her left arm useless. Murderous intent flashed in her eyes as she pulled a vial from her dress and gulped its contents, shouting, ¡°Kill the man dammit!¡± Her flesh began to knit together.

    Jill''s jaw opened in shock. The surprise drawing her attention away from Jackson''s assailants.

    The man with the injured calk gruffly snorted under his breath, ¡°You should have said something from the beginning.¡± He lifted a finger and casually pointed it at Jack. He grinned maliciously, ¡°Illuminate and burn!¡±

    A blue beam of light streak through the air like an angry thunderbolt. It was fast and hot like a laser. The light sizzled with heat as it burned a hole through Jackson¡¯s head.

    ¡°Jack¡ª¡± Jill turned and saw the charred wound in her friend¡¯s skull.

    Jackson¡¯s neck went limp. His face froze. There was no blood. Only the smell. The sound. The sight. Of death.

    Jillian heard a scream. It was her own.

    Jack turned his head and looked at Jillian, she was screaming and firing violently at the robed men. But between protective barriers and quick movements her attacks were futile. Her calm and collected demeanour which gave her the initial victory was nowhere to be seen.

    Jack felt his body drop to the ground. He tried to reach a hand to touch his head, but he couldn¡¯t muster the strength. He locked eyes with Jillian as he fell. He smiled.

    Down.

    Down.

    Down.

    His face was in the dirt.

    He breathed his last.

    And died.

 Chapter 3: The Old Dog and His Tricks

    Jillian¡¯s gun overheated from a rapid series of volleys. The pistol was hot to the touch and steam rose from the vents.

    Her mind was panicked.

    Dammit! What are these bubbles¡­ energy shields?! They¡¯ve barely invented the wheel!

    She ignored the blinking warning lights and fired off a couple more shots, only to curse as the robed figures easily evaded them.

    Their speed¡­ they can dodge bullets¡­ dammit¡­ dammit dammit¡­ Jack¡­ Jack¡­ dammit!

    Jill felt fear, a deep dear of the unknown. Who were these people, what was their power? They had no electricity, no nano-technology, no ion batteries but they could shoot lasers from their fingers. No genetic manipulation, no enhanced bones or eyesight, but they could dodge bullets with the slightest of movements.

    She tried to fire again, to keep the enemy back. Their sinister smiles reminding her constantly that the only reason she was alive is because they had an ulterior purpose. They wanted something from her¡­ they saw her as a piece of meat for the market.

    The enemy closed in.

    Her morale broke. Fear took over. Her plans of orderly retreat were forgotten and she sprinted with reckless abandon!

    But all she could do was try. Her steps were uneven, and her mind was shaken. She hadn¡¯t even brooked the crest of the hill when the casual conversation of her three pursuers reached her ears.

    ¡°Hans, are you okay?¡±

    It was the woman. Her name was Celine. A damn wench she was! Jill¡¯s mind seethed with anger. Hans? Oh, right. The person whose calf she punctured.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, just toss me a healing pill,¡± the man¡¯s gruff voice responded. His voice was melodiously enchanting as he continued, ¡°Should¡¯ve let Victor finish the guy off¡­ wasted too much energy.¡±

    Jill felt her heart clench. She heard a third voice. A deeper voice, calling out. It sent shivers up her spine. Each word was like a thunderclap in her ears, like electricity was flooding the air itself.

    ¡°Wind, wind, wind, rise!¡±

    A gust of wind burst forth and Jillian shouted as she was tossed thirty feet in the air like a ragdoll, her escape ended. She struggled desperately. The vents of her pistol finally closed shut, it had returned to a useable temperature. She clutched her pistol, firing off a few rounds, but the wind knocked her about and she couldn¡¯t get a clean shot off. She was like a little bird caught in a fierce updraft.

    The man who summoned the wind looked at Celine.

    As if sensing his thoughts, she nodded, ¡°Her body is strong, she won¡¯t die.¡±

    The man smiled and softly called out, ¡°Fall.¡±

    A loud audible crack was heard as Jillian tried to break the fall with her hand. Eyes forward, she ignored the pain and tried to point the gun at one of her assailants. She let out a scream as a blue beam of light shot her pistol out of her hand and carved a blackened hole through her palm.

    Jillian writhed on the ground.

    Her left arm broken and her right hand useless. Her heart was filled with dread as she heard their footsteps approach and their light-hearted chatter. Her green eyes caught sight of Jack¡¯s still corpse, her heart clenched. One of the men, Jill was pretty sure his name was Hans, reached out a hand to grab her. Jillian clenched her teeth and rolled away sharply. Her assailants shouted in surprise as she bounded to her feet using her core muscles alone and faced them defiantly.

    ¡°Hold still woman!¡± A man snarled as he reached for her.

    Jillian whirled around and hooked a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. He raised his arms to block. She snorted. She was top in the academy at kick boxing and she had military grade enhancements done to her body. Her kicks were far from soft, they could dent a steel beam.

    They connected.

    Jillian felt her heart freeze. She was prepared for some sort of kickback, they had weird powers after all! But she at least expected him to be knocked clean off his feet. But the man didn¡¯t even react, like her kick was the bite of a fly! She tried to slide her foot away, but the man grabbed her ankle. His fingers were like cold snakes coiling around her ;eg. She felt her ankle break as his iron-like fingers crunched through the bone. She gritted her teeth, holding back a violent scream. He kept going. She felt his fingers squeeze through her nerves. She almost passed out from the pain. Then he twisted his hand at a sharp angle.

    There was an audible snap!

    She felt dizzy and tried to hold back vomit. He snarled menacingly and let out a guttural laugh, he was far from finished. He slide his hand up to her knee and grabbed firmly then whipped her over his head like a ragdoll and smashed her into the ground.

    She gasped. Winded. Bloodied. Bruised. And broken.

    Then she saw a hand reach for her face. She blinked back tears. Dark tendrils of panic wrapped around her mind. Her heart beat erratically, she tried to pull away, but she had no strength. The hand roughly grabbed her by the chest, having no shyness on account of her gender. She could see the handsome man sneer lecherously as he held her up and inspected her like a piece of cattle. His conniving expression contrasting sharply with his almost beautiful features.

    She mumbled, barely coherent.

    The man shook her violently.

    He spat in her face.

    She twitched slightly as it landed, her strength almost completely gone.

    The man mocked her, ¡°What¡¯s a matter girl, huh? That was quite the nasty injury you gave me with your contraption, come on, speak up!¡±

    She tried again and got a sentence out, ¡°What¡­ what¡­ what are you?¡±

    The man slapped her, hard. Her head jerked back violently as he laughed.

    ¡°Speak up! I can¡¯t hear you.¡± The man was clearly enjoying himself.

    Jillian was soon lost to the dizziness; her consciousness was fading. But focus returned to her mind as she heard Celine, the woman, whisper.

    ¡°Witches.¡±

    Jillian¡¯s green eyes locked onto Celine. The woman in the red dress looked back at the astronaut and grinned, ¡°Surely you¡¯ve heard of witches girl? But your face says otherwise¡­ can¡¯t imagine what kind of backwater place you came from.¡±

    Jill jolted as if physically struck, she didn¡¯t know what to think anymore.

    The witch smirked at her, ¡°Boys, you have to break her spirit¡­ don¡¯t be gentle.¡±

    Jillian opened her mouth to shout but couldn¡¯t. She tried to struggle but a boot to her stomach stopped her movements, her body doubled over as she coughed. Blood spattered out, matching her fiery red hair. The man who was holding her pressed his face towards her, his intent clear on his face. He licked his lips. A snake-like tongue lapped all the way to his eye.

    Jill couldn¡¯t bear it anymore. She felt her mind slipping into insanity. She just wanted to go home. She wanted Jack back. If she could she would kill herself. She felt the slimy tongue scamper along her face.

    She slipped her tongue forward to her teeth.

    And prepared to bite.

    Then, a warm liquid wash over her face.

    Iron¡­ She thought. It tastes like iron.

    She opened her eyes; the sneering and sinister face wasn¡¯t there anymore.

    In its place was a man with greasy black hair, soft brown eyes and a scruffy face.

    She looked at him.

    He looked at her.

    A tenderness washed over his face, he smiled at her, ¡°Sleep.¡±

    A heavy and warm hand gently patted her head. She felt her tension melt away and she breathed deep for the first time in awhile.

    She felt peace.

    She closed her eyes.

    And slept

    ****

    ¡°VICTOR!¡± Celine let out a wailing scream as Victor¡¯s head slid from his body and a fountain of blood burst forth. Her eyes were crazed. ¡°How dare you?!¡±

    Though her tone was hostile, she was frightened. He moved so fast. She had looked away just for a moment, to make an offhanded remark to Hans, and in that time, he had bolted in and sliced off Victor¡¯s head with one sweeping motion. The interloper gently set down the red-haired astronaut on the grass. His back to her.

    But Celine wasn¡¯t foolish.

    It looked like an opening, but it smelled like a trap. The guy was powerful enough to sneak around her ¡ª and she was Captain Grade! Plus, he didn¡¯t use a Word of Power. No chant. No spell. No nothing. This means this was just his raw cultivation strength with no skills. It made her knees knock. She asked him again, trying to buy time and see if she had any useful potions or talismans in her storage pockets.

    ¡°How dare you¡­¡±

    The man flicked his sword. The blood splattered off smoothly, like it had never been there in the first place. His eyes were dull and brown as he looked at her, his face devoid of emotion or expression. He answered.

    ¡°I dared.¡±

    Celine felt her temper flare, ¡°What¡¯s your name wretch? So that when I carve out your organs and feast on your flesh I can savor every moment!¡±

    The smell of cigar wafted in the air. A deep booming voice called out, ¡°I see the cannibalistic tendencies of witches are universal.¡± A tall burly black man stepped onto the hill and snapped his fingers. He nodded to the greasy haired man in a black kimono, ¡°Well done Da Shan.¡±

    The interloper nodded.

    ¡°You think you can just ignore me?!¡± Celine hissed like a feral cat. Her only remaining ally, Hans, pulled close to her. His eyes focused, ready to cast a spell at any moment.

    The Captain chewed on his cigar and laughed, ¡°You¡¯re hardly in the position to ignore me! Activate spell formations!¡±

    BOOM!

    CRACKLE!

    Staffs burst forth in light and smoke. Like the smoke from a rocket launch a mist exploded from the staffs and wrapped around the crest of the hill. Ten figures stepped through the mist, moving behind the Captain, while another group stayed behind ¡ª holding up staffs and hands to maintain the spell formation.

    Cindy, who was one of the ten, walked beside the Captain and levelled her spear at the two witches, her gaze playful and triumphant, ¡°Hands up.¡±

    Celine and Hans raised their hands slowly. Their faces seething with anger. Celine¡¯s chest rose and fell as she panted heavily.

    The Captain tossed his head lightly at Da Shan.

    The latter nodded, picked up Jill and walked over to them, his broad back just inches from the snarling faces of the witches. So close that Celine could smell the dandruff and grease in his hair.

    But he was unconcerned. Uncaring. And unafraid. His face flashed a look of tenderness. The change from neutrality to raw emotion startled the Captain and Cindy. Neither had seen emotion of any kind on his face. Ever.

    A wave of jealousy rocked through Cindy. As Da Shan walked by, she whispered to him in a low voice, ¡°Friend of yours.¡± Her heart clenching at the thought.

    Da Shan¡¯s warm face glazed over as he looked at her, ¡°No.¡± He turned to the freckle-faced, red-haired astronaut again and brushed a lock of hair from her face. His voice was soft and tender, ¡°But she looks like one.¡±

    Unsure if she felt relief or irritation Cindy stiffly replied, ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Will you two love birds knock it off, we have hostile targets in front of us.¡± The Captain smacked them both on the shoulder, he looked startled that Da Shan didn¡¯t move or react ¡ª while Cindy was almost bowled over. His strength was far from simple. But apparently Da Shan wasn¡¯t the longest serving Deacon in the sect for no reason. The Captain had no time to dwell on Da Shan¡¯s off behaviour though, the witches were cornered but not dead. Gruffly he whispered to Da Shan, ¡°Put the girl down Da Shan, we got things to do.¡±

    Da Shan didn¡¯t respond. But he set Jillian down gently and looked as if he had to tear his gaze away from her as he focused on the two witches in front of them.

    The Captain cracked his neck and strode up, ¡°Cindy, Da Shan¡­ on me. The rest¡­¡± He raised a muscular arm and clenched his fist, ¡°Form up!¡±

    ¡°Aye sir!¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.

    ¡°Sir.¡±

    ¡°Acknowledged.¡±

    The remaining Cultivators formed a semi-circle behind the two witches, running to get in place as the Captain, Da Shan and Cindy walked slowly up.

    It was a majestic scene. A wall of cloud as a backdrop and the crest of a grassy knoll as the foreground. Two witches, arms raised in surrender, being approached for interrogation by three of the School¡¯s finest Deacons.

    The Captain was a big man, with smooth dark skin. Confidence exuded his massive form. His knuckles were gnarled and weathered with age. He had no tools or weapons apart from his own body. He was a Martial Arts Cultivator, specializing in the fist. His pants were loose and baggy and his shirt one size too large for his muscular frame, the loose clothing allowing maximum movement. He gently tugged his black overcoat closer to his body, it shimmered with energy. The occasional yellow light rippled across the grey cotton fabric of his shirt. They were both enchanted. Capable of blocking a few spells and a knife wound or two. Items such as these were lifesavers. He flexed his fingers, like he was playing an invisible piano. Thick gold rings on each finger, studded with gems and carved with designs, were the only form of adornment on his otherwise simple outfit. Short-cropped curly hair, deep brown eyes and a square-set jaw made him the most imposing of the group.

    Cindy¡¯s steps were minced and careful. She was the pride of the School, one of best up-and-comers. She carried herself pridefully and confidently. Her spear was long, almost two meters in length. It¡¯s shaft a heavy grey, made of metal. The spear head was polished, and it glittered as it caught the sun, red feathers at its base swayed in the breeze. Cindy¡¯s eyes traced the shaft of the spear, following the lines and squiggles that coalesced into complex patterns. Her spear was also enchanted. It weighed half as much as it was supposed to. Her sandy hair bounced as she walked. The tan riding pants hugged her lines closely, in contrast with her ornate silk blouse. Bracelets, circlets and all manner of jewelry dangled on her wrists and around her neck, each as expensive as they looked, but all lifesaving items. Her blue eyes flitted to the casually sauntering from of Da Shan.

    He lacked the rugged simplicity of the Captain.

    His hair was greasy and longer, his eyes dull not deep. His muscles visible, but not defined. His facial features plain and average. His height was a little above average, just over six feet. He scratched some scruff on his chin.

    He lacked the opulence and atmosphere of Cindy.

    His black kimono was stained and spotted, its dark colour almost insufficient to disguise the wear and tear. The garment ran all the way down his arms and down to just above his ankles. He had brown leather sandals and white socks underneath. He had put away his katana when carrying Jillian but now it was out. It was naked and exposed. A simple sword. No sign of enchantment or extensive work. Just long cold steel and a black hilt. He held the sword in one hand and rested it upright on his shoulder as he walked.

    But he walked unnaturally. There was no way to put a finger on it, but he walked with a weight and heaviness that seemed almost illusory, but at this moment, there was something different about him.

    The witches shrank back at their approach, Celine¡¯s eyes were rabid. She pulled her black robe tight, obscuring the long, lavish, red corset dress underneath. Then raised her hands again, letting the robe fall loose at the warning glance the Captain shot her.

    ¡°I love me a good inquisition in the morning.¡± The Captain spat loudly and chewed on the roll of tobacco in his mouth.

    Celine and Hans shrank back, fear creeping into their expressions for the first time. Celine¡¯s eyes darted about in panic, as if she had expected an entirely different outcome.

    ¡°Now then¡­¡± The Captain rubbed his hands with glee, ¡°Why don¡¯t you ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Captain.¡±

    The black man turned his head sharply at the interruption, surprise evident on his face, ¡°Got something to say? Huh?¡±

    Da Shan ignored the prodding and Cindy rolled her eyes ¡ª as if to say ¡°Men!¡±. Da Shan simply nodded and asked, ¡°I¡¯d like to ask a question.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to ask her to undress that¡¯s against the rules¡­¡±

    Cindy kicked the Captain¡¯s shins. He didn¡¯t budge, his muscular body unphased by her attack.

    ¡°No¡­ something else¡­¡± Da Shan¡¯s gaze turned heavy, he looked at the Captain and then at Celine.

    The Captain felt a sense of fear wash over him. He¡¯d never been on a mission with Da Shan. Deacons went on a couple hundred missions a year; Da Shan typically went alone. No one really knew how he operated, just that he had one of the lowest Cultivation levels and that he had been a Deacon for a very long time. Though he regarded Da Shan as the lowest of the low, any Deacon who survived just their first year on the job was typically promoted. Though apparently unable to secure a promotion, he was still able to safeguard his life ¡ª that was worth something.

    He decided it would be better to give Da Shan what he wanted, ¡°Go ahead¡­¡±

    Da Shan asked slowly, without pause, as if he expected to be granted permission to ask. His question elicited a smile from the witches, their fear gone and their arrogance on full display.

    Da Shan¡¯s tone was quiet and threatening, ¡°Where¡¯s James?¡±

    Celine let out a sigh of relief. All the Cultivators felt their hackles stand.

    She smiled, ¡°And here I thought my people had failed in their mission¡­ BREAK!¡±

    Faster than anyone could react Celine stomped on the ground and the earth roared to life. The grass covered hill quivered and groaned, rippling with movement, throwing everyone except Da Shan off their feet. But her surprise attack couldn¡¯t overpower the barrier. The mist reacted like a living beast and quelled the quaking of the earth with a loud crash! The rippling waves of dirt bounced off the cloudy shield and nullified each other.

    In the confusion Celine and Hans and bounded over the trio and escaped to the other side of the barrier, putting a fair bit of distance between the Cultivators and themselves. The Captain got up slowly rubbing his back and Cindy let out a small groan of pain as she stood on her feet.

    ¡°Da Shan!¡± The Captain was irate, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you stop them? You were just looking at them like you¡¯re watching a play?!¡±

    ¡°Something¡¯s wrong.¡± Da Shan¡¯s voice was low and heavy, it sent shivers up their spines.

    Cindy was about to retort. But then bloodcurdling screams filled the air. Their barrier of mist wavered, as if weakening.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    The Captain cursed, ¡°The wizards are dying!¡±

    One by one the glowing staffs were extinguished. The Cultivators on the inside couldn¡¯t see what was happening, nor did they have time to react. It was all happening too fast. But the wails of men and women being eviscerated by black magic was unmistakeable.

    ¡°Prick me¡­ GO!¡± The Captain shouted.

    The Cultivators dashed forward.

    One at the back let loose a hail of arrows.

    Hans laughed and summoned a wall of earth to block the arrows. Celine slapped the slab of soil and it rippled out, shuffling the two witches around the battlefield. They couldn¡¯t escape for long, but they didn¡¯t need to escape for long.

    The Cultivators closed in, but it wasn¡¯t fast enough.

    Da Shan stood stoically. The Captain cursed, and Cindy readied herself.

    The mist vanished.

    ¡°Fall in!¡± The Captain shouted, and the Cultivators ceased their fruitless assault and made a circular formation around the trio.

    Now they were the ones who were surrounded. A score of dead bodies were strewn around the top of the hill. The Cultivators and Wizards that were sustaining the spell formation had all died. Limbs splayed out. Blood dotting the earth. Jaws slack in disbelief and eyes wide in terror. They didn¡¯t see the enemy coming. Somehow, they had snuck up on them and butchered them like animals for the slaughter.

    More than thirty black robed witches surrounded the small group of cultivators. Casually stepping over blood and bone as they closed their formation. Thirty-two to thirteen. The odds were not in the Cultivator¡¯s favour.

    ¡°Cap¡¯n¡­ this doesn¡¯t look good¡­¡± Cindy spat for emphasis, her confidence gone.

    ¡°That really contributed to our plan, thanks a lot Cindy,¡± the Captain¡¯s voice was so dry it would make a desert embarrassed.

    Cindy rolled her eyes, she¡¯d been doing that a lot today.

    The stench of blood filled their nostrils and the light tinkling of Celine¡¯s laughter grated their nerves.

    With a gloating smile she asked one of the new arrivals, ¡°So where is James?¡±

    He looked around uncertainly as if not sure about responding publicly. He appeared to be just a young man. He tried to speak only managed to stutter out a few unintelligible sounds. He was too nervous.

    Celine pursed her lips, ¡°Oh bugger off and tell us.¡±

    He swallowed and tried again. Eventually, words began to pour out, first a trickle than a flood, ¡°We couldn¡¯t kill him¡­ he was too strong¡­ we lost half our members. But we sealed him¡­ he won¡¯t be bothering us for awhile. He stole our sound¡­ can¡¯t¡­ can barely speak¡­ can¡¯t think¡­¡±

    ¡°DAMMIT! WHAT THE -¡ª¡± Celine raised a hand in anger, but then her eyes widened in shock.

    The man who had been speaking to her. The one who was nervous and uncertain. Had just been cleaved in two. Da Shan had sprinted across the distance, his movements so swift and sudden Celine couldn¡¯t respond.

    His sword had chopped fast. Faster than her eyes could track. All the witches were in shock, unmoving, frozen by his speed and grace.

    He breathed deep, as if the exertion was almost too much for his body. He seemed to age visibly before them, a few white hairs dotted his black hair.

    But he didn¡¯t slow.

    He whirled around, wielding his sword like a club. With a one-armed swing he decapitated another witch. The head sailed in the air as a feral snarl contorted his expression.

    He was a wild beast unleashed.

    The witches shouted and screamed and created some distance. Some casting walls of earth. Others summoning mist and rain.

    But like a nimble monkey, he evaded them all, dancing through the flames.

    Celine shouted orders over the chaos and a small group of five witches bolted after Da Shan and tried to engage him at close range. Somehow, the lowly Deacon was able to keep all five at bay. Celine kept an eye on Da Shan and started regrouping her men, recovering from Da Shan¡¯s sneak attack.

    Cindy was in total disbelief. To think the surly and unkempt Da Shan could be so ferocious. ¡°Piss me¡­¡± She whispered.

    The Captain roared, he knew a chance when he saw one, ¡°You blokes flat-footed? CHARGE!¡±

    The Cultivators charged forward taking advantage of the confusion, some let loose arrows that managed to puncture the chests of a few witches ¡ª catching them unawares. Soon the witches were able to regroup, their speech slow, their magic stifled. But they had superior numbers. The witches weren¡¯t going to just lay down and die, they were some of the best the Coven had to offer. Before the first wave of Cultivators could reach them a torrent of spells pushed them back.

    Water. Rock. Fire.

    All three erupted in a cascade of black magic that overwhelmed their assault and put them on the defensive. Another coordinated wave of spells launched, catching the Cultivators on the back foot. Some ripped necklaces and touched rings. Blue, pink and grey bubbles of energy materialized mitigating the damage. Some seemed to teleport out of the way. Somehow, all had survived. They regrouped and tried to flank the side of the witches, using speed to outmanoeuver the spells. Back and forth they went. Locked in a stalemate. But the Cultivators were running out of talismans, bracelets and rings. Soon¡­ soon they would make a mistake and if just one of them died¡­

    The Captain made a beeline for Celine. If he could kill her, the battle would tilt in their favour, right now, she was managing to hold her soldiers together. Celine¡¯s eyes seemed panicked as the Captain barrelled toward her, about to puncture a hole in her formation. But he was intercepted by Hans.

    The Captain growled like a caged beast and threw a wild fist.

    Hans leaned back evading the blow, just barely, almost slipping on a puddle of blood.

    The Captain shouted, ¡°Cindy, pincer attack!¡±

    Cindy jumped from behind the hulking man, she¡¯d been tailing him all along ¡ª waiting for his orders. She savagely thrust her long spear into the face of Hans.

    The witch turned and dodged, then whirled around to meet the next attack but was dumbfounded when Cindy had simply sprinted passed him.

    Then Hans raged.

    She was going for the weaker witches; the pincer attack was never intended for him in the first place.

    He tried to cast a spell, to throw her off balance, but before he could even form a word a massive black fist came barrelling at him ¡ª alight with blue fire.

    Hans hurriedly summoned a barrier of light.

    It shattered like glass.

    Blood came from his mouth as he was punched so hard that he was lifted off the ground, sailing almost ten feet in the air.

    The Captain smiled triumphantly and prepared to close in.

    ¡°Illuminate and burn!¡± Hans strained voice called out as he pointed a finger.

    The Captain¡¯s smile froze as a thin colonnade of blue light drilled through his skull and pierced into the ground behind him.

    In mid-flight, while crumpling in pain from the Captain¡¯s fist, Hans had managed to get off a deadly spell.

    The Captain tottered over, a smile of victory still plastered on his dead face.

    The Cultivators were filled with panic at the sight of the Captain¡¯s death. It was too fast. It was too quick. Their morale almost broke. Two more were slaughtered. One by a massive stone, another by a ball of fire. The agitation and fear spread.

    Hans smiled to himself at his handiwork. Grinning at his use of witchcraft and then doubled over, his face contorted while he vomited blood and bile. He had used too much energy today, that spell wasn¡¯t an easy one to cast. And that punch wasn¡¯t light. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed in a heap.

    Cindy screamed, and tears flooded her eyes. She turned heel, her initial mission of a pincer attack forgotten and revenge the only thought on her mind. Her spear flung out, it¡¯s tip booming - ¡ª as if it had broken the sound barrier ¡ª directed at the unconscious Hans. But then her cries of revenge stopped, and her eyes went wide in death.

    ¡°Illuminate and burn. Fire and light. Death to all.¡± Celine¡¯s voice crooned out. Unlike Hans who used one finger. She clasped two hands together and opened her palms. A blast of energy almost a foot thick stampeded through Cindy¡¯s body, leaving a blackened and gaping hole in her chest.

    All her rings, bangles, bracelets and necklaces shattered. Their defense mechanisms had activated, but their power insufficient.

    She dropped to her knees and let her spear fall to the ground. Her hands touched the cavity in her chest, shaking with disbelief.

    ¡°That¡¯s not fair¡­¡± She whispered, her voice carrying across the carnage, reaching every ear.

    ¡°That¡¯s just not fair¡­¡± She collapsed in a heap.

    Her eyes open in death.

    What followed was a massacre. The Cultivators saw their champions defeated. They lost all heart. Their blood flowed, staining the earth with defeat.

    All that remained was one man.

    Da Shan.

    More than ten had fallen at his hands, but Celine had cast that powerful spell more than once ¡ª and seemed able to do it a few more times. It had kept him back unable to rescue his companions, he had killed the five witches Celine had put on him and a few stragglers. But it was not enough. His companions had fallen and about fifteen witches remained.

    Da Shan gripped his katana. His face impassive.

    Celine smiled. But inside she was churning. She had lost too many people today; the Coven had taken great damage. There would be repercussions for her mismanagement and the loss of high ranking members. Victor was dead. Hans was potentially dead, his body fried from using too much energy.

    She raised her hand, preparing to order a barrage of spells. Then stopped as Da Shan¡¯s sword clattered to the ground.

    She quirked an eyebrow, ¡°Surrendering? I would prefer that, perhaps we could negotiate ¡ª¡±

    ¡°It appears we are at an impasse,¡± Da Shan cut her off.

    Celine laughed with incredulity, ¡°Impasse? Please! Sure you may kill a few more of my people, but there¡¯s no ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I offer you a chance to surrender, I will spare you at least, perhaps Chancellor McCarthy will forgive your crimes,¡± then his voice hardened, ¡°But if you don¡¯t, you disgusting cannibalistic wench, I will eviscerate you.¡±

    Celine stopped laughing. She wasn¡¯t afraid of this mangy cur. She sneered at him, ¡°How about this, you cut off both your legs and I¡¯ll consider keeping you as a pet?¡±

    ¡°Ah, negotiations have broken down again. What a shame.¡± Da Shan sighed, then spoke. His voice a soft whisper carrying on the wind.

    ¡°Ferrum, veni.¡±

    *****

    I am so tired.

    Da Shan¡¯s head was covered in grey hairs. His face was pale and had the beginnings of wrinkles. He looked in a mirror. He almost jumped back at his appearance. He took a bottle from his pocket and downed the contents. Soon his hair flushed black and a bit of rosiness returned to his cheeks. But the tiredness didn¡¯t leave his bones.

    The surly figure yawned again as he ambled down the hallway of a now empty school. Da Shan had just come back from a long and tedious mission. His black kimono was stained, bloodied and torn. His red Joe Boxer shorts peeked out at every step and his hair was tousled and battered. A couple sword wounds on his chest exposed his slightly hairy pectorals (his only slightly defined pectorals) to the open air. On his back was a large bloody sack, with three distinct bulges.

    The mission was complete.

    It was a long hard fight. Celine was powerful, but not powerful enough. James was alive too and had promised Da Shan he would take care of the woman¡­ her name was Jillian. Jillian¡­ He let the name roll around in his mind. The auburn hair. The freckles. The strawberry shaped head and the bewitching green eyes. He smiled tenderly, only for a moment. He could not afford to be distracted. He had plans. Big plans were in motion. It would soon be time to say goodbye to this dreary life of mediocrity and ridicule. He gently thumbed the small copper badge, pinned near his neck. The words Deacon ¨C 1<sup>st</sup> Grade were engraved. He was the highest grade of the lowest rank in his School. Deacons were the unappreciated grunts, the student teachers who filled in for lectures, carried out dangerous research for wizards, participated in deadly training sessions, fought monsters ¡ª were eaten by monsters ¡ª you name it. Any sort of dangerous work where dismemberment and fatality rates were high, the Deacons were called.

    Why go through with such a life? For the chance of promotion! That you had some hidden talent, that you weren¡¯t as useless as you had been told you were. Cultivators, Wizards and Alchemists were typically highly trained professionals. Almost anyone could do some level of magery, mixing or martial arts. Anyone who could use a special power of any kind was technically ¡°gifted¡±, but no one would call you gifted without some level of ability or notoriety. As always only those with talent (and money) could join the upper echelons of society. All sects had two systems. One to sort the youth into the geniuses and the not-so genius. But only a fool would think prodigious talent guaranteed success. So, an alternate, grueling path was left available for people to claw their way up. Talent and money helped, but without hard work it was all for naught. Da Shan¡¯s situation was a little unique, but in general, Deacons were the bottom of their society (though of course still above the average rabble). Some gifted chose to go it alone, freelance. But that was dangerous, a lot of the schools were very distrustful of these vagabonds ¡ª often hunting them down. For many, being oppressed by society was still better than being exterminated by society.

    Da Shan let a hand fall lovingly on the chiselled stone that lined the hallway. The Sect of Sagacity (the pretentious name being a bit of an inside joke) was one of the mightiest schools in all the world. It was one of the newer ones too, founded almost three hundred years ago.

    Da Shan tugged the bag a bit, doing his best to not let blood leak out from the bottom into his clothes. But it was proving to be a little difficult.

    He soon made his way up a flight of stairs. The dark wood creaking with his steps. His pace was measured and steady, unhurried and unrushed. He brushed passed a couple students, their green blazers and kilts reminding him of a youth he had left behind. Long behind. After walking down another hallway he reached a large oaken door. He turned and studied the door. Not looking particularly eager to enter. On the oaken door was a gold plaque that read: Chancellor McCarthy. Taking a moment to study the door ¡ª a door he had studied many times ¡ª he again appreciated that quote etched into the wood.

    A student¡¯s duty is to enrich the school by either doing well in all hiss classes or failing as many as he can! Top graduates enrich our future and failures enrich our wallets¡­ retake classes as many times as you need!

    A small grin tugged on Da Shan¡¯s stony face. He never gave me credit for this joke. He took a deep breath and smiled. There is no good luck ritual that can make a meeting with extended family go well... it''s always a roll of the dice.

    He knocked on the door and then spoke in an even voice, ¡°You wanted to see me Chancellor?¡±

    The door opened on its own to reveal a room filled with shelves, books and papers everywhere. In the center of the room, in front of a massive window was a wooden desk. At the desk sat a man in a matching blue pinstriped suit with a blue tie and a white shirt. The man was scribbling on a paper while taking occasional glances at one of his many open books. He was a strong figure, over six feet tall, muscular and handsome. Shining blue eyes and brownish black hair that had been neatly combed and gelled in the latest style. Joseph McCarthy was a model Chancellor in every way, a bit of a paranoid man, but an amazing man ¡ª if you believed the propaganda.

    ¡°Da Shan¡­ take a seat,¡± McCarthy gestured without looking up to one of the six chairs in the room.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Da Shan bowed his head and sat down ¡ª setting down the bag on the ground, ignoring the frown the Chancellor shot him.

    ¡°You know,¡± McCarthy paused for a moment before continuing. He put down his quill pen and folded his glasses. He set them down. And looked up. Then, as if having a change of heart he put his glasses back on and bent down and resumed writing.

    Da Shan was nonplussed.

    McCarthy soon spoke, ¡°In your 298 years of working here, this is the closest you¡¯ve ever been to a promotion.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Da Shan''s puzzled voice was at contrast with his flat facial expression.

    ¡°That chair you¡¯re sitting in, it¡¯s reserved for the Council of Sagery, the elites that serve directly under me.¡± McCarthy¡¯s face seemed normal, almost affable, but his tone was hostile.

    ¡°Ah, the six ¡ª fine cultivators they are!¡±

    McCarthy''s voice got colder. ¡°Get up.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not in the Council, are you?¡±

    Da Shan scratched his beard, ¡°No sir.¡±

    "Are you a powerful cultivator?"

    "In my own way," Da Shan¡¯s finger dug into his nose.

    "What about in my way?" A tinge of annoyance was in McCarthy''s cold voice.

    "Ah..."

    "... Well?"

    "I''m thinking."

    The sound of McCarthy''s scratching pen stopped. Then started again. His voice even and steady, McCarthy asked again, "Are you a powerful cultivator?"

    Da Shan pursed his lips and scratched some stubble on his chin. He thought for a moment. He thought for another moment. The sound of McCarthy''s scratching pen started turned to the sound of paper tearing. Da Shan spoke.

    "No... No, I don''t think I am."

    ¡°Then get up.¡±

    Da Shan stood and shuffled awkwardly to the centre of the room, his face unreadable. McCarthy looked up at Da Shan, their eyes meeting for the first time. Da Shan''s lifeless brown eyes contrasted with the sharpness of McCarthy''s vigorous blue. McCarthy looked back down, in a quiet voice he said, ¡°Sit on the floor where you belong.¡±

    Da Shan sat on the floor, softly.

    McCarthy kept writing. They waited in silence. After a couple minutes McCarthy stood up abruptly and turned around, facing the giant window. He walked up to it.

    ¡°Da Shan¡­ you¡¯ve been a friend of mine for almost six hundred years, haven¡¯t you?¡± McCarthy spoke without facing Da Shan, looking out the window at some unseen fancy. Da Shan flinched at the change of tone and the reference to their long acquaintance. His dull brown eyes flashed briefly with cunning intelligence, but then glazed over.

    He began slowly, his tone reserved, ¡°I¡¯m just a Deacon now sir.¡±

    ¡°Do you deny our friendship? Our mission?¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice was growing hot.

    ¡°No sir¡­ I don¡¯t deny either.¡±

    ¡°We are brothers aren¡¯t we?¡± The heat increased in McCarthy¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Good friends sir.¡±

    ¡°We are brothers aren¡¯t we?¡± McCarthy¡¯s tone was firm.

    Da Shan closed his eyes, ¡°Yes sir.¡± Then opened his eyes.

    McCarthy paused and drummed his fingers on his thigh and turned around, he studied Da Shan for a moment. His handsome face framed by the mid-afternoon sun at his back. He absently tugged at his pinstriped jacket sleeves and after a moment he asked, ¡°Do you remember our days in the Blood Devil Sect?¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s back straightened, ¡°As little as possible.¡± Came the curt response.

    ¡°They weren¡¯t exactly good times, were they?¡± A dry laugh punctuated the statement.

    Da Shan let a small grin creep into his face. ¡°No, they weren¡¯t sir.¡±

    McCarthy smiled back, then looked thoughtful as if remembering something. His face lit up, ¡°It was Elder Quan who was trying to kill you right?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir, he was a terrible master.¡±

    ¡°Must of felt good when we burned the place down.¡±

    ¡°Yes it did sir.¡±

    McCarthy gave a light chuckle and Da Shan allowed himself a small smile. McCarthy continued, ¡°After that we travelled the world, cultivating and gaining experience and decided to found this school after the war. We wanted to make a sect that was different from the Blood Devil Sect, both of us were Captain Grade at that time... everyone thought we were easy targets. The name pissed them off the most.¡±

    ¡°One of your better ideas,¡± Da Shan lightly replied.

    ¡°We had a challenge almost every week!¡±

    ¡°Remember how you took out that one Stone Cultivator?¡±

    A mirthful grin wrapped McCarthy¡¯s face, ¡°The one with the massive nose?¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t claim his nose was massive¡­¡±

    McCarthy grinned, ¡°It was the biggest thing on him when I was done with him.¡±

    Da Shan leaned back on the floor and scratched his neck absently, nodding in agreement, then adding, ¡°Good times.¡±

    McCarthy looked up to the ceiling, nostalgia evident in his tone, ¡°Indeed they were.¡±

    Da Shan frowned, ¡°They still are.¡±

    ¡°No they¡¯re not¡­ what happened to you?¡±

    Da Shan looked up in shock at the heat in McCarthy''s voice. Their eyes met again, but McCarthy didn''t back down. Da Shan played dumb. ¡°Beg your pardon?¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t had a serious conversation in 298 years, do you know that?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ you don¡¯t say? It¡¯s been that long? I wasn¡¯t keeping track.¡±

    ¡°I have.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s nice.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s sarcasm seemed to bounce off McCarthy as the Chancellor continued, ¡°You asked me, on this very day 298 years ago, to make you a Deacon¡­ right after we had founded this school. You told me you didn¡¯t want to teach, you didn¡¯t want to lead, you wanted to take a break.¡±

    Da Shan''s voice switched from sarcastic to pure indifference. ¡°I seem to recall such an event.¡±

    McCarthy took a step forward, ¡°You said the break would last only a few years.¡±

    ¡°Did I?¡±

    ¡°You did.¡±

    Da Shan helplessly shrugged, ¡°Ah, well¡­ I miscalculated.¡±

    ¡°You must be very bad at math.¡±

    Da Shan casually waved a hand, ¡°That¡¯s why Melinda¡¯s the Department Head of Mathematics.¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡±

    ¡°If you insist,¡± Da Shan¡¯s voice was almost snide.

    ¡°Da Shan¡­ what the hell man?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Why did you stop cultivating?¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s face shook, and his body trembled. Then, as quickly as the change had come, his face returned to neutrality as he said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    McCarthy stepped forward again, he was almost right in Da Shan''s face. Da Shan didn''t back down. McCarthy ran his hands along Da Shan''s shoulders, flicking off invisible dust. McCarthy glared at him, ¡°Don¡¯t play coy with me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sir.¡±

    McCarthy roared in anger. ¡°You piece of crap! You and me¡­ we were brothers. Yeah, I was better at cultivating than you and yeah I was stronger than you. But you haven¡¯t advanced in the past 300 years! Instead, you¡¯ve been taking dangerous missions every year to exchange them for this!¡± McCarthy turned and almost ran back to his desk and rummaged through a drawer. In a moment he pulled out a bottle and tossed it to his friend. The bottle impacted Da Shan''s chest with such force he nearly stumbled over as it bounced off him and clattered to the floor. Da Shan steadied himself and picked up the bottle and read the label under McCarthy''s severe gaze: Longevity Pills ¡ª For the Nearly Departed.

    McCarthy¡¯s shoulders heaved with anger and his face contorted with rage, ¡°How long have you been eating this swill!¡±

    ¡°The past 300 years.¡± Da Shan¡¯s face was still unreadable.

    ¡°School rules says I can¡¯t spy on people¡¯s purchases or possessions ¡ª so that we don¡¯t have no Elder¡¯s coveting the riches of students ¡ª but I thought to myself, ¡®Hot damn! What would Da Shan have that I would actually want?¡¯ So while you were gone I snuck into your room and searched through all your stuff.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes narrowed and his lifeless eyes glowed with a metallic sheen, ¡°You did what?¡±

    ¡°Oh prick me! Put away your rage you elf-skin! What are you going to do huh? Attack me?! Bring it on!¡±

    Da Shan didn''t respond. He turned away and his eyes returned to lifelessness and his face returned to inscrutability.

    McCarthy pressed his advantage, ¡°Can you believe what I found?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can.¡±

    McCarthy didn¡¯t ignore the sarcasm this time, in a flash he had leapt over the desk and lunged at Da Shan ¡ª grabbing him by the kimono and hoisting him to his feet. ¡°You have nothing¡­ no legendary treasures¡­ nothing¡­ after 600 years of cultivation you have nothing. No money either¡­¡± McCarthy dropped Da Shan who crumpled to the floor in a pile, his face frozen. ¡°So I checked your purchases and found that you have been buying these pills¡­ for the past 300 years¡­ What the hell man? You don''t have long left if you''re already on the pills! Why aren''t you advancing?! Let alone advancing, what are you now? Lieutenant Grade? Your power has gone down! What''s wrong with you!¡±

    ¡°What tipped you off¡­ to search my stuff.¡±

    ¡°Answer me!¡±

    ¡°Please¡­ answer me first,¡± Da Shan¡¯s expression had thawed, his eyes quivered and his face was warped with sorrow.

    McCarthy, taken aback at the sudden display, answered quietly. ¡°I saw a student¡­ wearing her hairpin." At this point McCarthy stopped and his eyes glistened. He took a deep breath and continued, "The Amber Lotus. I almost beat the student to death¡­ I thought she stole it from you. Had to pay her a lot in compensation. Here¡¯s the pin.¡± McCarthy took out a small red butterfly pin and tossed it to Da Shan ¡ª who let it fall on the ground in front of him. McCarthy turned around and with sigh ran his hands through his hair and wiped the dampness from around his eyes. ¡°I thought to myself, ¡®There¡¯s no way he¡¯d sell this pin!¡¯ I staked my reputation on that, and I lost. So. Answer. Me. Now.¡±

    ¡°My technique¡­ the one the Sect Elder from the Blood Devil Sect gave me¡­ it has a side effect.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s eyes narrowed, his gaze scrutinizing his old friend. But he didn''t interrupt.

    ¡°It eats away at my lifespan¡­ in exchange for vigour I lose longevity.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ your body gets more powerful from the vigour¡­ but it ages you rapidly?¡±

    Da Shan nodded heavily.

    McCarthy paused, considered what Da Shan said, and stated slowly and carefully, ¡°Alright¡­ but not just cultivate a different technique?¡±

    ¡°I tried¡­ I tried hundreds of techniques, but the cultivation method Elder Quan gave me¡­ I don¡¯t quite understand it¡­ but it¡¯s changed the structure of my body. I can¡¯t cultivate anything else.¡±

    ¡°Then just advance in this damn technique you have! There must be a higher level!¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ there is¡­ you take longevity pills to increase your lifespan and keep cultivating. Unfortunately¡­ my body¡¯s ability is just too low. I consume longevity to use my power¡­ I consume longevity to cultivate ¡ª and the vigour I get isn¡¯t enough to break through to a higher level¡­ so¡­ I just stopped cultivating. I only use my power on missions and I take longevity pills when I get back,¡± Da Shan¡¯s face was blank. He was already at peace with this fate.

    After a few minutes, McCarthy¡¯s cold voice cut in, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    McCarthy waited.

    Da Shan remained silent.

    Minutes passed.

    McCarthy asked again, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±

    ¡°Tell you what?¡± Da Shan¡¯s face was innocent.

    McCarthy felt the veins in his temples bulge, ¡°About this cultivation situation of yours!¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Answer me dammit!¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice was quiet, but it bubbled with rage.

    Da Shan¡¯s face was blank, ¡°Sorry, what was the question?¡±

    ¡°Anymore of this conversation will infect my brain!¡± McCarthy huffed with anger.

    Da Shan spoke, his voice slow and careful, ¡°Look¡­ my friend¡­ it¡¯s my business.¡±

    ¡°It becomes my business when you sell my wife¡¯s hairpin!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s my daughter!¡±

    ¡°THAT¡¯S ALL WE HAVE LEFT OF HER!¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s shout knocked Da Shan back into the door, a trickle of blood streaked down his mouth as papers fluttered everywhere and books fell from the shelves. McCarthy strode up to his father-in-law, his face contorted with fury, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you sell it to me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my business!¡±

    ¡°Why¡­ didn¡¯t¡­ you¡­ tell¡­ me!¡±

    Da Shan looked nervous. McCarthy waited, the anger gone from his eyes. Taking that as a cue Da Shan began slowly and then picked up the pace, ¡°I didn¡¯t think I could go to you¡­ what kind of father-in-law takes handouts from his son?¡±

    McCarthy snorted, ¡°Weren¡¯t we like brothers?¡±

    ¡°I have my pride.¡±

    ¡°Your pride is worth your life and your daughter¡¯s only keepsake?¡±

    ¡°It is.¡±

    ¡°Apparently your pride is worth so much that you didn¡¯t even realize that¡¯s not her pin.¡± McCarthy pulled another Amber Butterfly pin out, ¡°This is her pin¡­ you keep that fake. And get out of my sight.¡±

    ¡°Joseph, please, I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Leave me now!¡±

    ¡°I just wanted to solve my own problems.¡±

    ¡°Foolish old man¡­ you¡¯ve created more.¡±

    ¡°Joseph please¡­ yes I didn¡¯t ask for help¡­ but I have a plan!¡±

    ¡°With a mind like yours any damn plan you cook up can burn. You might as just die¡­ you¡¯re just a bug. A lowly and weak Deacon of a lowly and weak cultivation¡­ that only get¡¯s weaker. Don¡¯t you dare tell anyone you founded this school! You want to cut off all ties with me? Fine! You get your wish!¡±

    Da Shan hung his head.

    But McCarthy''s cold voice cut in, ¡°I thought we were going to avenge them.¡±

    Da Shan stiffened. ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re barely stronger than a student and you want to avenge them? Rest easy old man¡­ I¡¯ll avenge both our wives.¡±

    Da Shan clenched his fists with fury, ¡°I¡¯ll avenge my own wife and my own daughter, thank you.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You can¡¯t even take a shout from me, and you think you can take them on? Get lost.¡±

    ¡°Joseph, I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get out¡­ Elder of Mediocrity¡­ go laze about as you do best. At least one mystery was solved¡­ I always wondered why I never saw you cultivating. You couldn¡¯t.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s face returned to inscrutability and with a stiff bow, he turned around, picked up his bag and walked out. After the door had closed McCarthy waved a finger and an almost sentient wind swept through the office organizing everything. He sat down on his chair, put his glasses back on and proceeded to write again. After a few moments he stood in agitation and ripped his glasses from his head, hurling them on the floor with a clatter. He leaned forward with a pensive expression and said softly to himself, ¡°What are you playing at old man¡­ I don¡¯t buy this crap.¡±

 Chapter 4: That Devious Old Dog

    Da Shan sauntered out from the Chancellor¡¯s office, wavering on his feet for a moment before spitting out a mouth full of blood into the trash can, ¡°I can¡¯t even take one of his shouts¡­ friggin¡¯ jerk.¡± He wiped his face on his kimono, adding a new stain to his collection. It¡¯s time to make a sale. He clutched the Amber Hairpin and stowed it away in his kimono¡¯s pocket. A few winding staircases and long hallways later he found himself in the sect¡¯s courtyard.

    The Sect of Sagacity had one massive building in the shape of a pentagon, in the center of the pentagon was a square or a courtyard ¡ª where various shops and stalls had set up to do business (not a ¡°square¡± as in a square shape). Each of the five sections of the pentagon housed a major Department with smaller related departments. The five departments were: Alchemy and Wizardry, Anatomical Cultivation, Martial Cultivation, Smithing and Refinement, and the last one was Secular Studies and Student Housing. The pentagon itself was of grey and black brick, towering a massive five stories of rock, ivy and stone. It¡¯s black shingle roof framed by stone ramparts where guards constantly patrolled. Separating each section was a massive spire that housed the various materials and criminals relevant to that department. Ah sorry, did I say criminals? I meant to say, ¡°the naughty students¡± ¡ª although they were treated like criminals. All of the five thousand students who were part of the school started in the residences in the Secular Studies Department. Eventually, if they were picked by an Elder, they would move into the residences of that department. For example, if Lord Elderweiss from Anatomical Cultivation fancied a student (at any point during their years of study) he would invite them to join his department. Simple enough.

    Deacons and Teaching Assistants had separate living quarters though, there was a red brick building, in the gothic style, behind the pentagon (like way behind the pentagon¡­ out of sight and out of mind) ¡ª that was where they lived.

    It was in the main square that Da Shan found himself, he walked with purpose to a stall with a gaudily decorated sign: Mission Rewards and Exchanges, Best Deals This Side of the Mississippi River!

    All the stalls were independently owned, but in the principle of capitalistic meritocracy, no stall was guaranteed to be here next year. The school took a cut of every sale made ¡ª on principle ¡ª items were never confiscated. If someone acquired an item legally, it was theirs to keep. But, stall owners had to be wary of the Auditors, a mysterious group ¡ª said to be the Chancellor¡¯s right hand ¡ª who, if they suspected a stall of ¡°fudging the numbers¡±, would descend like locusts and devour everything. Department and Sect Missions were a little different, for missions the sect normally gave out a list of desired items, everything not on the list, was fair game. In general, all the items by sect law had to be sold to a licenced Mission Exchange stall, where a School Appraiser ensured that the items exchanged matched the list the school had posted. All publicly posted missions had to be approved by the Chancellor¡¯s Office. As said before, any items apart from the list could be kept by the mission goer, this law was enforced with great impunity by Chancellor Joseph McCarthy.

    Here''s an example, in times past the Pentagon was a Hexagon. The Alchemy and Wizardry departments were separate. That was until the Department Head of the Wizardry department killed a Deacon to forcibly seize an item, an item that was not on the mission list. Somehow, nobody really knows how, the Auditors heard of this and the Chancellor ordered a full investigation and corruption was found to be rank in the Wizardry Department. Joseph burned the department to the ground and summoned all the Elders and student body. He then dragged Department Head Melecandor through the streets and disembowelled him, by hand, in front of the crowd and stared them all down with a steely-eyed gaze said, "My house, my rules or get out." Then in front of everyone he summoned a hurricane and demolished the Wizardry section of the Hexagon, Wizards that didn¡¯t escape in time were buried under piles of rubble. He commissioned the Smithing Department to remake the Hexagon into a Pentagon (with an abnormally long side) and merged what was left of the Wizardry Department into the Alchemy Department. Then, to cap it all off, he made this incident compulsory reading in the Secular Studies Department. That''s why, though missions were dangerous, there was a high chance to get a juicy item (and keep it) ¡ª because of these rules and the one who enforced them.

    But apart from that, think of the cash!!! There was good business to be made ¡ª buying goods from the Deacon and Student missions ¡ª and selling them to the departments (if you had the talent). Most departments were a little short staffed when it came to resource collecting, so they were more than happy to spend some of their mountains of moolah (and avoid the risk of death) to procure items as they were available in the market or offer a Department Mission.

    As hinted at before, the only major caveat is that all loot from a school assigned mission could only be bought and sold at the school.

    Da Shan wormed his way through the throngs of students and elders, trying hard to not let his bag of heads bump into too many people. His slightly stale smell and oily hair ensured he had a bit more wiggle room than most. He meandered his way through the stalls until he spotted a particularly drab storefront. The banner was motley, the colours drab and the black man who owned it was fast asleep. Snoring loudly to the chagrin of a customer who was trying to get his attention. Da Shan got in line behind the annoyed looking fop and waited. The fop waved his hands and snapped his fingers, his face red with exertion, desperately trying to wake up the shopkeeper. Feeling defeated the man soon gave up. With a huff, he turned and after shooting Da Shan a derisive look, he grinned, ¡°Well if it isn¡¯t Mr. Elder of Mediocrity! The Sage of Singleness! The Lion of Loneliness! The Scrub of Simplicity! The Avenger of Averageness! A pleasure to see you again!¡± The man bowed, his blonde hair bobbed as he dipped his body in mock reverence.

    Da Shan blushed, dropped his bags, and shook the man¡¯s hand vigorously, ¡°The pleasure¡¯s all mine!¡±

    Stunned at Da Shan¡¯s nonchalant reaction, the man stared woodenly as Da Shan shook his hand. The man looked down after Da Shan let go and noticed a rather odd scent wafting up from his hand.

    ¡°Is that what I think it is?¡± He sniffed the air cautiously.

    Da Shan chuckled, ¡°Oh sorry, I forgot to wash my hands after my most recent¡­ appointment with mother nature. Let me do that now!¡± Da Shan pulled out an oddly shaped leaf and rubbed it on his hands until they smelled minty fresh.

    The other man¡¯s face seethed with rage and he wordlessly stomped off with all the arrogance someone could muster after a situation like that.

    Looking at the man¡¯s back Da Shan¡¯s bashful look vanished, it was replaced with a cold sneer. You wish that brown stuff was mother nature¡¯s¡­ Hehehe¡­ You¡¯re not going to feel your hand for the next few days. Now done with the angry blonde man, Da Shan knocked on the stall, startling the motley looking stall keeper awake.

    ¡°Who goes there?!¡± The old black shopkeeper shouted, pulling his dark musty kimono tighter to his boney frame. His wrinkly dark skin and bald head matching his kimono in both age and colour. He peered at Da Shan, confusion soon replaced with a look of mild annoyance.

    ¡°Mornin¡¯ Ed.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the bloody afternoon Da Shan!¡± The black man¡¯s bald head shimmered in the sun, as if emphasizing the time of day.

    ¡°It¡¯s always morning when I see your sunny face.¡±

    ¡°Are you gay?¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°I asked you a question.¡±

    ¡°Today seems to be a weird day for questions.¡±

    ¡°Why, you get asked that a lot? You hit on seniors a lot, you into that wrinkly worm huh, early bird?¡±

    ¡°¡­ The hell Ed.¡±

    ¡°You started this.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Ed casually picked at his fingers, ¡°There are people of that persuasion around Da Da, there¡¯s no need to come to me. You know I¡¯m a eunuch.¡±

    Oz dropped the sack in his hands, ¡°You¡¯re a eunuch?! When did this happen Ed?¡±

    ¡°I never told you?¡± Ed rubbed his bald head casually as Da Shan¡¯s jaw dropped.

    ¡°You have friggin¡¯ twelve kids!¡±

    Ed sniffed lightly, ¡°They¡¯re all adopted.¡±

    ¡°And your wife¡­ how do you¡­ satisfy her?¡±

    Ed beckoned Da Shan close and wrapped a boney ebony arm around Da Shan¡¯s shoulders, he whispered ¡°There are other ways to keep women happy.¡± Ed crooked two fingers in the shape of a ¡°C¡±.

    Da Shan gasped.

    Ed¡¯s smiled, letting his crooked teeth show, revealing a smarmy smile of glittering pearly whites that contrasted with his black skin.

    Da Shan scratched the scruff on his face thoughtfully, ¡°I always wondered why your kids were all white.¡±

    ¡°You were never the brightest bulb in the room.¡±

    ¡°You keep bulbs in your room?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Why would I plant tulips indoors? I got a garden for that.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Ed pressed his fingers to his forehead and groaned, ¡°You been living under a rock?¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    Ed stared at Da Shan, ¡°You miss the secular invention of the light bulb?¡±

    Da Shan stared blankly back, ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bulb that lights up.¡±

    ¡°Glowing flowers aren¡¯t anything new around here Ed.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You¡¯re stupid, eh, you know that?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m growing a little tired of the comment, but yeah, I¡¯ve gathered.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re tired of it you should read a newspaper.¡± At this, as if signifying the end of their conversation, Ed leaned back, pulled out a newspaper and began to read. Da Shan peeked at the frontpage, reading the articles on the other side of Ed¡¯s paper. Noticing this, Ed shifted the paper. Da Shan followed the article as Ed moved the paper. Ed frowned and moved the newspaper again. Da Shan followed it closely.

    ¡°DAMMIT GIT LOST DA SHAN! Can¡¯t you see I¡¯m busy, I don¡¯t have time for your games! I got customers to take care of.¡±

    Da Shan casually glanced around, just to make sure he was the only one there. Ed blushed when he realized what Da Shan was doing and with a harrumph returned to his paper. A couple minutes passed between the two. Then a loud shout interrupted their quiet time.

    ¡°Da Shan!¡±

    The paper nearly flew out of Ed¡¯s hand in surprise, even Da Shan gave a couple shocked blinks and looked around trying to find the source of the shout.

    Ed let out a low whisper, ¡°Who knew people actually wanted to talk to you¡­¡±

    A dull-eyed look made Ed loudly harrumph again, and then return to his paper.

    The voice called out again, ¡°Da Shan!¡±

    Ed nearly stumbled over again at the loudness of the voice. Da Shan gave up looking around and started to pick his ear.

    ¡°Dammit Da Da, who¡¯s calling you? They¡¯re so loud,¡± Ed gently patted one of his ears for emphasis.

    Da Shan shrugged, ¡°Ah, I didn¡¯t know people wanted to talk to me¡­¡±

    ¡°You are so sensitive,¡± before Ed could return to his paper the voice called out again.

    ¡°DA SHAN!¡±

    It was so loud the stall was rocked and some of Ed¡¯s wares came loose, nearly tumbling on the floor, before the shopkeeper nimbly caught them.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s it dammit! Show yerself you little prick! You think this is some private concert hall? This is a public place, you want to talk to someone use yer damn legs.¡± Ed shouted so loud his face was tinged red with exertion. Some passersby by balked at Ed, but no one came forward. With a loud flap of paper he settled back down to read the day¡¯s news.

    Then, as if on cue. A man with a slight and slender frame walked up, he had rectangular glasses and almost wavy black hair. His eyes were a radiant brown. He wore a brown waistcoat with a high-necked white muslin shirt. Over top, he wore a soft velvety blue coat, paired with close fitted blue pants. His high top leather boots lightly clicked on the stone as he walked.

    At his side, he guided a frightened looking young lady. She had a soft strawberry shaped head and red curls. Green eyes, freckles and creamy white skin painted the portrait of a uniquely beautiful woman, one that would be hard to forget. Though she seemed out of sorts, he posture was straight and severe, a military type. She wore a white muslin shirt with a matching brown waistcoat, brown pants and brown leather boots. A petite nose and inviting lips made her masculine attire accent her femininity even more.

    It was James and Jillian.

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes glazed over, as if he didn¡¯t want to be engaged in conversation with the pair. His body soon followed suit with his eyes and he turned a little off to the side.

    The shopkeeper let out a hushed whisper as they approached, ¡°Customers¡­¡± Then when the shock wore off, his look of expectation drooped, ¡°They look stingy¡­¡± He pulled up his paper, covering his face and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

    ¡°Da Shan,¡± James said.

    ¡°You were the annoying voice dammit!¡± The shopkeeper almost fell off his chair as he rocked forward, trying to hit James with his paper.

    James stepped back and bowed, ¡°My apologies, but I was trying to call Da Shan for a private conversation, for some reason he stayed. Take these gold ducats for compensation.¡± With a light clack James set down a couple gold coins on the stall.

    Ed took the money and loudly harrumphed, before returning to his paper.

    James turned to his friend and spoke again, ¡°Da Shan.¡±

    Da Shan turned his head away even more, his neck almost creaking from the effort.

    ¡°Da Shan.¡±

    ¡°¡­What.¡± Came the grudging response.

    James looked nervous, his voice was a little unsteady, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for not bringing the package earlier¡­ I was distracted.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how many people died?¡± The reply was short and curt, and it bit into James¡¯ heart.

    ¡°Too many.¡±

    Da Shan nodded, then gently patted James shoulder, ¡°At least you know, that¡¯s all we can do at this point.¡± He turned, his voice noticeably warmer, ¡°Now, who is this?¡±

    James¡¯ eyes shone with eagerness. ¡°Oh, allow me to introduce to you, Jillian LaPucelle. She¡¯s an alien.¡±

    Ed tumbled out of his chair, the newspaper flying everywhere. He cleared his throat as everyone¡¯s eyes fell on him and sat back up. Flapping the newspaper in front of himself.

    Jillian gave a slight bow and just as she was about to speak Da Shan cut her off.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t look like an alien James¡­ she looks a little familiar.¡±

    James nodded stoically, ¡°I know, I know¡­ I know.¡±

    Jillian looked confused and tried to ask again, but Da Shan didn¡¯t note the social cue.

    ¡°Where did you pick her up?¡± Da Shan wrinkled his nose and sniffed, ¡°She smells like that odd corpse I found on the hill¡­¡±

    ¡°Jack.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes went wide while James smirked at him.

    Jillian spoke again, her voice firmer, ¡°His name was Jack.¡± She nervously tugged at a glowing blue ring on her finger.

    Da Shan¡¯s voice waxed cold, ¡°The dead only have names to their beloved.¡± Da Shan turned around, ending the conversation.

    Jillian¡¯s eyes rippled with anger. This fricking rude prick. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when James¡¯ hand rested on her shoulder, almost forcing her anger down. He looked at her. She looked at him. James shook his head and sent her a whisper that only she could hear, ¡°There are things you don¡¯t know about¡­¡±

    Then in a louder voice James addressed Da Shan.

    ¡°I know it must be hard for you to see her, Jillian bears an uncanny resemblance to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not another word James.¡±

    ¡°¡­ If you say so¡­¡± James sighed, ¡°It seems I have put my foot in my mouth yet again, I will pay you a visit in your dorm tonight. We have things to talk about, as for right now, Jillian and I need some supplies.¡±

    Da Shan waved, his back still to them. Jillian resisted, looking like she wanted to say some words to Da Shan, but James managed to tug her away. Silence and a lack of customers once more returned to Ed¡¯s little stall, the shopkeeper doing well to pretend he heard none of the conversation.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    But soon curiosity got the better of him, ¡°So¡­ James and Jillian¡­ interesting names¡­ interesting names¡­¡±

    Da Shan leaned against the stall and waited. Ed waited, hoping to hear some juicy bits of gossip, but time stretched on. Ed soon realized that no information would be forthcoming, the veteran gossiper ¡ª now deeply disappointed ¡ª returned to his newspaper with a sullen look on his face. The two men continued in silence for a few more minutes.

    Then Da Shan casually said, ¡°You know Ed, I used to own a newspaper company.¡±

    Accepting the change in subject, Ed humored him and responded, ¡°So I¡¯ve heard and as you¡¯ve mentioned for the past 200 years you¡¯ve visited my stall.¡± Feeling a little miffed at not being told some salacious tales about James and Jillian Ed threw in a little conversational barb. ¡°I still don¡¯t believe you.¡±

    Ed turned a page of his paper, not even looking at Da Shan.

    Da Shan frowned, but then prodded his friend, ¡°Why not?¡±

    Ed sat up straight, pulled out a wad of tobacco from underneath his stall and produced a pipe from his kimono pocket. He opened up the bag and wafted the cherry scent into his nose. Catching Da Shan¡¯s look of disapproval, he quickly stuffed his pipe and lit it and then puffed contentedly for a few minutes.

    Da Shan scowled and said, ¡°Smoking is bad for your health.¡±

    ¡°Being visited by you is worse.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Anyways¡­ why won¡¯t you believe me?¡±

    Ed took a long draw from his pipe and after chewing on the stem thoughtfully leaned forward, his robe opened at the chest ¡ª revealing his ebony and boney pectorals. ¡°You want the truth? Or do you want me to say sorry and just pass off the comment as being a by-product of not being told juicy gossip?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d prefer the truth.¡±

    Ed leaned back and sat in silence, staring at Da Shan ¡ª as if evaluating what to do next. Time ticked by and with every passing second Ed took longer and harder pulls on his pipe, until there was nothing left. He put his pipe down. And locked eyes with Da Shan before saying, ¡°It¡¯s one thing to say mean things as a joke¡­ but it¡¯s a little hard to honestly say things to someone¡¯s face¡­ especially yours. I like you Da Shan. I had no business before you came, still don¡¯t really apart from you. But you do so many crazy missions that you keep me alive. And you buy my most expensive item, the Longevity Pills. And you buy them at a premium price every time. I know you¡¯ve been doing it because you¡¯re a good guy. I know you do it for my kids and my wife.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s expression remained still. Ed paused and then continued, ¡°I¡¯m 273 years old next month. My cultivation isn¡¯t very high¡­ but it¡¯s not that much lower than yours. Soon, I¡¯ll have to start taking the pills myself. I can¡¯t advance in my cultivation¡­ I don¡¯t have the resources. But you¡­ if you just kept more items you could have advanced your technique a thousand times over by now. I¡¯ve never seen you cultivate! Do you know what everyone calls you?¡±

    ¡°The Elder of Mediocrity?¡±

    ¡°No not that one, the other one.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Little Hill, a play off the meaning of your name.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s face turned red with embarrassment, ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unexpected¡­ how did they know my name means Big Mountain?¡±

    ¡°I may have¡­ told¡­ a few people¡­ Anyways! Yeah, most of the students and other Elders don¡¯t know how hard you work around here, they judge you just by your cultivation. I don¡¯t think the Alchemy Department even knows that half their items come from you.¡±

    Da Shan regarded his friend with silence.

    ¡°My friend, you¡¯ve probably been cultivating for 100 years now¡­ and I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing with all these longevity pills¡­ but you¡¯re going to die at this rate. Some advice from an old-timer. Work hard. Because right now, you¡¯re trash.¡±

    ¡°¡­ So, why don¡¯t you believe that I owned a newspaper company?¡±

    ¡°Dammit Da Shan! Do you listen?¡±

    ¡°Very well actually.¡±

    Ed rubbed his shining head in exasperation, ¡°Talking to you is like pulling out hair.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Do you even know what that feels like?¡±

    Ed glared at him, ¡°I wasn¡¯t born bald.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ aren¡¯t we all?¡±

    ¡°Nah, some babies have hair on their heads.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t say¡­¡± Da Shan scratched his chin, digesting this information and then realized he had been distracted. He prodded his friend, ¡°But why won¡¯t you believe anything I say?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re weak Da Shan.¡±

    ¡°How does my strength correlate with my integrity?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t, it causally relates.¡±

    ¡°It casually relates?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ causally, like, it is the cause of.¡±

    ¡°So because I¡¯m weak, I¡¯m a liar?¡±

    ¡°You got it.¡±

    Both men paused for a moment, Da Shan scratched his head thoughtfully and Ed pulled out a rag and polished his head. After a couple more minutes, Da Shan leaned in, making Ed put away his rag and look at him in expectation.

    ¡°Ed, I have a secret I¡¯d like to tell you.¡±

    Ed leaned back, ¡°Is it about your newspaper company?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s about my age.¡±

    ¡°Frig¡­ don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re older than me! I¡¯d be ashamed to give you advice and even more ashamed to have known you.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­ Hell man, don¡¯t keep me in suspense¡­ just say it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m 706.¡±

    ¡°Horse bridles! Like hell you are! You bloody elf-skin! How can you tell such a lie with a straight face?!¡±

    Da Shan leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, ¡°Bring out a Bloodreader.¡±

    ¡°Frig, you¡¯re serious? Costs 100 ducats.¡±

    Da Shan pulled a small sack from his kimono and set in on the stall with a clink.

    Ed¡¯s eyes bulged, ¡°Hot damn¡­ you¡¯re serious?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ but can I sell this stuff first?¡± Da Shan patted his storage pouch for emphasis.

    ¡°Oh sure.¡±

    Da Shan nodded gratefully then set down the bag on his back, ¡°And I have what¡¯s left of some comrades and three trophy heads from a mission.¡±

    ¡°A damn shame when we lose good people. The Fascists got them? The Soviets have been pretty fierce lately¡­¡± Ed touched a star-spangled flag hanging from his stall with reverence.

    ¡°Nah, it was Witches.¡±

    ¡°Ah, suppose that¡¯s a little better, least they weren¡¯t dissected alive or anything like that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ shall I give it to you?¡± Da Shan proffered the bag to Ed.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll put it in storage and bring it out to the monument later.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, here¡¯s the list of those who didn¡¯t make it back.¡±

    Both men paused awkwardly and reverently, observing an impromptu moment of silence before Ed cleared his throat and received the list before speaking, ¡°Bloody done with all this sad stuff. Let¡¯s get on to the money.¡±

    A few transactions later both men were joking and laughing at the unexpectedly good haul that Da Shan had brought in. Ed smiled at his friend and then handed him ten bottles of longevity pills and a gold bar. ¡°That bar¡¯s been weighed, it¡¯s a kilo. So that¡¯s the 1000 ducats in change I owe you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks Ed.¡±

    ¡°My pleasure, see you tomorrow brother,¡± Ed gave a small wave then busied himself organizing his purchases.

    Da Shan knocked on the stall, startling the shopkeeper ¡ª who glared at him. But Da Shan was not dissuaded, he tapped the counter of the stall, ¡°Ed¡­ the Bloodreader.¡±

    ¡°Da Shan¡­ don¡¯t waste your money on a prank.¡±

    ¡°Says the man who didn¡¯t give me back my bag of gold.¡±

    Ed turned away awkwardly.

    Da Shan gave a small grin, ¡°Let¡¯s make a bet then, if I¡¯m 706, you give me five spirit stones.¡±

    Ed¡¯s eyes narrowed, ¡°And if you¡¯re not?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a Fist Cultivation manual for Nathanael.¡±

    ¡°Deal. Show me the manual first.¡±

    Da Shan pulled a battered manual from his kimono pocket. Ed whistled in appreciation at the craftsmanship of the leather-bound volume and its pristine condition. Da Shan nodded at the praise and then absently commented, ¡°You know, apparently there was a time when people kept their storage pouches in their hands or tied to their body, rather than as a pocket in their clothes.¡±

    Ed balked, ¡°Get out! That¡¯s so stupid, people would be stealing storage pouches left right and center, displaying your wealth like that¡­ how dumb.¡±

    ¡°I know right? Apparently, that¡¯s how it went. Anyways¡­ this is a Green Grade manual, right? So, it¡¯s worth 10 stones at least¡­ that ain¡¯t a small sum.¡±

    ¡°I might be a little confident.¡±

    ¡°¡®Zat so? Me too. Call.¡±

    ¡°Call.¡±

    Ed went into the back of his stall and a little rummaging and some curses later pulled out a device that looked like an old cellphone with a key pad. He unscrewed the knob on the top to reveal a syringe. After a few mutters and mumbles he turned a dial to a setting that read: Age. Without looking up he said, ¡°Alright Da Shan, prick yourself.¡±

    ¡°Funny guy.¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Prick you!¡± Da Shan smiled and took the Bloodreader. Without a word he stabbed the syringe into his wrist and let it slurp up a sizeable amount of blood. He then passed it back to his friend while the device started beeping and buzzing. Da Shan fold his hands behind his back and puffed out his chest with expectation, his greasy black hair moving in the wind. The machine kept calculating. Sweat started to form on Ed¡¯s bald face, his hands started shaking. Five Spirit stones was no small sum. He set the device down on the stall counter and both men stared at it expectantly ¡ª Da Shan pretending not to gloat. A number popped on the screen, 1 and then it changed to 2. Then 3. And it kept increasing, slowly but surely. Very slowly though.

    ¡°Is this an old model Ed?¡±

    ¡°The oldest.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You cheap knave.¡±

    ¡°Da Da, you don¡¯t bring in enough goods for me to upgrade my inventory.¡±

    Da Shan replied with a sigh, ¡°We¡¯ll be here all night.¡±

    ¡°The hell, did it just go down?¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s it counting down? That¡¯s what you get for not using the latest model Ed.¡±

    ¡°Eh? It¡¯s back at zero.¡±

    ¡°Now its at 999¡­ Ed¡­ does this thing only go to 1000?¡±

    ¡°I guess¡­ the screen is pretty small.¡±

    ¡°Ed¡­ you really need to get a new one.¡±

    ¡°EH?! It¡¯s still counting down.¡±

    Allowing a small smirk to creep on his face Da Shan said, ¡°Perhaps its because it¡¯ll reach its destination faster.¡±

    Ed sweated¡­ a lot. Two hours passed by and Ed had sweated so much he almost passed out, but the machine was still counting down. One number at a time, sometimes up, sometimes down¡­ but in the end. Mostly down.

    712

    No! Ed¡¯s thoughts screamed in his head.

    Yes¡­ Da Shan grinned like the Grinch who stole Christmas.

    711

    No! No! No!

    Yes! Yes! Yes!

    710

    If he wins, I¡¯ll kill him.

    Ed must be so happy for me.

    709

    The hell?! This guy¡¯s like three times my age.

    Bask in the presence of your glorious senior.

    708

    NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

    Maybe I¡¯ll go easy on him, I¡¯ll just make Ed call me Senior Martial Brother whenever we meet.

    708

    Huh?

    ¡­

    After a few moments of no movement the machine beeped triumphantly and then a robotic voice intoned: ¡°Rejoice human overlord, you are among the very aged! Congratulations on being 708!¡±

    Ed¡¯s pores were so confused, they didn¡¯t know whether to sweat or not, but his mind saw a devious loophole. ¡°Hehehe. You¡¯re not 706.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    *****

    Ed looked triumphant as he perused his new manual. Da Shan muttered, ¡°I hope there¡¯s a scribal error in the manual.¡±

    ¡°Now now, let¡¯s not be a sore loser¡­ you were the one who said, ¡®If I¡¯m 706¡¯. Hehehe. You could have said, ¡®Over 700¡¯. But you didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ I didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°No one to blame but yourself.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, I am the one to blame.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s figure drooped, and little droplets of water began streaking down his face. The droplets turned into a mighty river of tears. Ed looked aghast¡­ he didn¡¯t know what to do! ¡°Ugh, there, there.¡± He began unsteadily then with more gusto, ¡°Old friend was this manual important to you? The wager was tilted a bit in my favor, I was only wagering half of what you were¡­ tell you what! I owe you a five stone favor! Now don¡¯t expect me to pay it out, but I got your back¡­ eh? So, no hard feelings about the ¡ª¡±

    Da Shan sat up and his tears seemed to shoot back into his eyes as his face warped into an expression that was most Grinch-like.

    Damn¡­ I¡¯ve been played.

    ¡°You promise Ed? No backsies, no penny taxies?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡­ promise¡­¡±

    ¡°No backsies?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ back¡­ sies¡­¡±

    ¡°No penny ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Prick you, ya damn frock! I already promised you, now get on with it.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes glimmered with conspiracy, he looked around furtively with his eyes and then leaned in treacherously, ¡°You¡¯ll have to take a blood oath.¡±

    ¡°Frig you want me to swear to secrecy?!¡±

    Da Shan nodded solemnly.

    ¡°Who are you hiding from, what kind of enemies could you have ya old coot!¡± Ed¡¯s arms flapped with emotion, but his mind was whirling. Damn¡­ actually if the guy¡¯s 700 then he could have all sorts of enemies who are stronger than him. I mean if he pissed off some genius cultivator when they were both young and maybe now that genius cultivator has surpassed him in strength and has come for revenge. Frig! Or he was buddies with some cultivator and then, this guy cast him out because of his lack of progress and now he¡¯s got a powerful enemy. Light untold! There¡¯s too many possibilities for an idiot like him. His enemy could be the Patriarch (or Matriarch, let me not be accused of gender inequality in my mind) of a sect! Frig! Frig! Frig! Prick him! Prick him!

    With a sheepish grin Da Shan whispered, ¡°Just the Chancellor.¡±

    Ed fell off his stool with a crash and them stumbled back up, ¡°You scum! I won¡¯t help you!¡±

    ¡°It was just a joke Ed.¡±

    ¡°I oughta ¡ª wait¡­ a joke?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it was just a joke.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    Da Shan turned his back to Ed and paused stoically, allowing the wind to fondle his greasy hair and billow his unkempt robes, ¡°The truth is, the Chancellor and I are blood brothers.¡±

    ¡°Pffft, Hahahaha!¡±

    Da Shan, still looking off majestically in the distance, continued, ¡°We are sworn allies and even in-laws. This is a secret I have revealed to no one except you. Him and I are on a quest for revenge.¡±

    Ed glanced around furtively, ¡°Da Shan, if you don¡¯t want to be executed by the Council of Sagery for propagating communist ideas, you should stop. Spreading lies about the Chancellor is a fine way to get yourself thrown into the gulag, you think those spires are just for show? Naughty students go in and they don''t come out.¡± He turned around as if disassociating himself from Da Shan.

    ¡°But it¡¯s all ¡ª¡±

    ¡°A load of crap. Whatever man, no need to be so mysterious. I¡¯ll take the blood oath and help you.¡± Ed turned around almost jumped when he saw that Da Shan¡¯s expectant eyes were just and inch from his face.

    Eyes aglow with expectation, Da Shan asked, ¡°¡­ You promise?¡±

    ¡°Do we have to go through this again?¡±

    ¡°We might.¡±

    ¡°Da Shan.¡±

    ¡°Not have to.¡±

    Ed sighed with exasperation, ¡°Alright, so what¡¯s the plan?¡±

    Now it was Da Shan¡¯s turn to look around with fruitive glances, as if ensuring that no one would overhear his plan. Ed tried to resist the urge to beat Da Shan. After glancing around for almost five minutes Da Shan leaned in, ¡°Meet me under the Bridge of Nineteen Sparrows at midnight.¡±

    ¡°The Bridge of Nineteen Sparrows? Where¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the bridge at the back woods, the one beside the sewage filtration plant.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ why the odd name?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my secret headquarters¡­ consider yourself fortunate old friend. I have already revealed so much to you without a blood oath.¡±

    Ed dryly responded, ¡°I feel blessed.¡±

    Da Shan nodded sagely, as if that was the most obvious conclusion, ¡°So you should. Anyways, I need to go to my room to get my stuff, I¡¯ll meet you there tonight.¡±

    ¡°Alright, get out of here.¡±

    ¡°With pleasure.¡±

    Da Shan turned on his heels and walked off, his sandals clicking on the stone floor and his robes blowing majestically in the breeze as he walked off. Ed shook his head slowly, before mumbling to himself, ¡°When he¡¯s like that you¡¯d really believe he¡¯s one of the best swordsmen in the sect. Pah! His cultivation is too weak though to get any real respect¡­ you¡¯re a fool old friend¡­ a fool.¡± Ed, feeling a little melancholic, packed away his goods and his stall.

    The sun started to set as Da Shan walked towards the red brick dormitory behind the pentagon. As he walked, he heard the whispered jeers and insults of the students. Mocking his smell, his appearance, his talent and his rank. Even though he was a Deacon ¡ª the lowest rank in the Eldership ¡ª it was still a crime to mock a superior. But Da Shan was an old man. He looked at the kids. Their green blazers and white shirts glowing with all the vicissitude of youth and all the idiocy that went with it.

    Maturity is a process that takes time, if it was a few centuries ago Da Shan might get annoyed. He might murder some of these people indiscriminately ¡ª if he was a cultivator of thinner skin ¡ª but those kinds of hotheads could never survive. That kind of behaviour was beyond childish, it was animalistic. The world of cultivation used to be filled with idiotic brutes who pursued their base desires, that was until the importance of Secular Studies was realized. The importance of legitimate virtuous living. Da Shan recalled a teaching he had encountered in his travels, ¡°Do not be overly wicked or God will cut you off, do not be overly righteous or you will die before your time.¡± Da Shan felt contemplative as he mulled over the phrase. Words of wisdom, these young cultivators should learn their place before being out of place harms them. Before long Da Shan had made his way to the brick building. He knocked. The door opened, revealing a frowning elderly woman with a smart, hot pink, business suit. She eyed him up and down through granny glasses.

    ¡°Da Shan¡­ I see you¡¯ve returned.¡±

    ¡°Evening Deloris, yes I have.¡±

    A frown tugged at her wrinkled face, ¡°Where¡¯s everybody else?¡±

    ¡°Ah, they didn¡¯t make it.¡±

    ¡°Even Cindy?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Frig.¡± Deloris spat angrily, ¡°I¡¯m always amazed at how you make it back every time¡­ the past thirty years I¡¯ve been in charge of this place¡­ nobody pisses me off like you do.¡±

    ¡°Thanks Deloris.¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not done yet.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s head bobbed casually, ¡°Ah, by all means continue.¡±

    ¡°Cindy was going to be promoted to Teacher after this mission, did you know that?¡±

    Another nod, a little less vigorous, ¡°I did Deloris.¡±

    ¡°Did you now?¡±

    ¡°Yes I did.¡± There was no nod from Da Shan this time.

    Deloris jabbed a finger into his chest, knocking him off balance, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you save her life then? Huh, you worthless satyr. She had a future, she was a girl with potential!"

    "I have a lot of potential!" Indignation laced Da Shan¡¯s voice in response to Deloris¡¯ hostile tone.

    "You got about as much potential in cultivation as you do in getting married. Frig... I bet if you had a wife she''d kill herself because of you."

    Something in Da Shan seemed to snap, his vision went red and he had difficulty not unsheathing his blade, between short breaths and clenched teeth he spoke.

    ¡°If she¡¯s so amazing and she couldn¡¯t protect herself, how could this little Elder of Mediocrity save her life? Spare me your rants, you old windbag and get the hell out of my way.¡±

    ¡°What ¡ª well I never ¡ª¡±

    "You know Deloris, I¡¯m really tired today and I don''t have the patience to argue with you. If I do, I don''t think I''ll be able to hold back. I''m really sorry that Cindy died! Okay! I tried to help her, but you know what, she died because she was a fool!"

    ¡°You take that back or I will ¡ª¡±

    ¡°If Cindy is so amazing she¡¯d be back. But I¡¯m back, so I¡¯m amazing. So shut up and let me through, you¡¯re barely 70 this year and you want to lecture me? Move hag!¡±

    ¡°I will report you!¡±

    Da Shan strode right up to her face, his hot breath mingling with hers as their eyes met. Sparks seemed to fly, but Da Shan did not back down, despite her superior cultivation. He leaned in closer.

    ¡°Go ahead, make sure it¡¯s to a Department Head so that they have the authority to discipline me.¡±

    ¡°I will make sure of it!¡±

    ¡°Thank you, now if you please. Step. Aside.¡±

    Deloris crossed her arms over her chest and regarded Da Shan with unbridled hostility, ¡°I challenge you to a duel.¡± She too leaned in, unafraid of Da Shan''s naked aggression, "To the death."

    Her words snapped Da Shan back to reality. Frig... what am I doing, I need to keep a low profile! I have plans, I have plans I can''t get involved with her in a life and death battle. Frig! Da Shan''s brain spun like a merry-go-round, trying to find a solution. His dizzy brain stumbled upon the best one it could find. Withdrawing from close proximity to Deloris, he folded his hands behind his back with a flourish of his kimono. He shook his head, recalling the flash of red at Deloris remark about his wife. It¡¯s not like she knew he was married before, no one in this town knew. To think he still had such a temper! He shook his head at the ridiculousness of his conduct just now. He regarded Deloris, bristling with animosity, and shook his head with an air of indifference. What am I? A beast? An unreasoning animal? How foolish Da Shan. This is a lose lose. If I kill Deloris, I''ll make more enemies than I can count... especially her niece... and prick... if I die... needless to say that''s bad for my health.

    Da Shan''s face returned to neutrality and with a huff that only the elderly can manage, he said, ¡°I decline.¡±

    ¡°Excellent, we''ll set the date for ¡ª wait what?¡±

    ¡°I decline.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t decline! I ¡ª¡± Deloris¡¯ protest froze in her throat; Da Shan¡¯s blade had somehow flown from its sheath and the back end was pressed against her throat. She felt the blood drain from her face.

    ¡°Deloris,¡± His breath was hot and heavy, right in her ear. ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill you and make your niece my enemy.¡±

    Da Shan withdrew his blade and brushed passed her. His steps slow and steady.

    Deloris almost stumbled, the shock was almost too much for her. But then she remembered there was another reason she had started talking with Da Shan ¡ª before she let her temper get the better of herself. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

    Da Shan paused after hearing the sound, knowing she had something to say.

    Deloris¡¯ voice was halting but picked up as she kept talking, ¡°Cindy was supposed to give the lecture on the Grand Meaning tonight.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    A pause followed, and the silence stretched on. Deloris looked at him, waiting for a response, but his face remained as blank as a freshly scrubbed chalkboard. She tried again.

    ¡°The Teacher, Elder Bill, is sick today¡­ has been for the past week.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate.¡±

    Another pause in the conversation. Her newfound fear of the Cultivator in front of her the only thing stopping her from lashing out at his ineptitude. She managed to keep her tone respectful as she asked, ¡°Would you ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh you want me to¡­ fill in the¡­¡±

    ¡°Lecture, yes. I want you to give the lecture.¡±

    ¡°¡­Why?¡±

    ¡°To give a lecture you either have to be over 100 years old or have special permission. All my Teaching Assistants are either dead or busy and you¡¯re the only person on site who¡¯s over 100.¡±

    ¡°I decline.¡±

    The reply was quick and the tone final. Deloris felt anger bubble up, but she managed to reign in her emotions. She paused ,collecting herself, ¡°¡­ May I ask why?¡±

    ¡°You may.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    The silence was almost deafening. Deloris seethed. She forced the words out between clenched teeth, ¡°You¡¯re going to make me ask again aren¡¯t you?¡±

    A twinkle of intelligence shone in the back of Da Shan¡¯s eyes ¡ª unnoticed by Deloris ¡ª but his face brooked an expression of confusion.

    Deloris sighed, comforting herself that he was just a hapless idiot before asking, ¡°Why won¡¯t you do it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me.¡± Da Shan marched up the stairs and swept passed Deloris but then froze as her voice called out and she extended her hand.

    ¡°The payment is one gold bar.¡± The bar shone especially bright in the sunset, Deloris felt her facial muscles twitch at the abasement of bribery.

    Da Shan whirled around and swept it up before Deloris could react and clutched the bar in his fingers. Nothing is sweeter than gold. Nothing. Hehehe! His face contorted with an unhinged joy and his tone sweetened to such a degree it made Deloris sick, ¡°Highly esteemed friend, why didn¡¯t you just say so! I was so confused I didn¡¯t understand what you were saying at all. You said lecture? I thought you said latrine! Ah, what a mistake I have made.¡± Da Shan subtly put the gold bar in his storage bag. Deloris tried not to vomit as Da Shan bowed repeatedly, backed out of the door and then ran off to the lecture hall.

    Before she could have a moment to herself, his bumbling form turned around and came back into her view and asking. She bristled at the thought of having to endure another conversation with him.

    He called out, ¡°I¡¯m sorry my dearest Deloris, what is the lecture about and where is it?¡±

    She sighed with gratitude that it was just a simple question, ¡°The lecture, as I said before, is on the Grand Meaning. It¡¯s in the Secular Studies 101 lecture room. The teaching materials are in the ¡ª¡±

    ¡°No need for those, I¡¯m off. Ta ta!¡±

    Deloris felt her knees grow weak, ¡°I need to sit down.¡±

 Chapter 5: Room 101

    Jillian adjusted her pants for the twelfth time in the passed minute. They were profoundly uncomfortable, she didn¡¯t know whether to feel good or bad about the fact that the clothes was not fitting her well. She was a woman after all. She needed womanly clothes and James¡¯ clothes was far from womanly. But there was another problem. James, he was a slender man, it was not that the clothes were too loose, it was that they were too tight. One time she swore she saw him eying her waist with a look of disapproval. It infuriated her, him acting all high and mighty.

    If Jack was here he would give old four eyes a piece of his¡­ Jack¡­ She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d ever forget today. James said it had happened only a few hours ago. She didn¡¯t believe him ¡ª on account of the fact that she blacked out.

    Her green eyes rested on the back of a man with wavy black hair, who was bartering with a shopkeeper. Haggling about a penny here and a penny there.

    James is such a nag. I just want to go home¡­ home¡­ what is home?

    She didn¡¯t want to be up and about. She didn¡¯t want to be shopping. She wanted Jack¡¯s body¡­ James said that was impossible. Some witches had escaped from Da Shan¡¯s purge and they took his body with them.

    Pricking creeps! What do you want with a dead body. HE¡¯S MINE!

    Anger worked its way up her throat, threatening to explode in a scream. But anger gave way to frustration, frustration to disappointment and disappointment to tears. Pretty soon she was bawling on the streetway, kneeling down in the dirt like a beggar. Unable to control herself, gut-wrenching sobs escaping from her lips and bubbles of snot from her nose. She just wanted to go home.

    I just want to go home¡­

    She didn¡¯t know when or how but a large warm hand rested on her shoulders. A gentle warmth was suffused into her body. She felt lighter, the clouds started clearing. Within seconds she was well enough to glare at people who were ogling her like a spectacle. She felt another hand. Not so gentle. Not so warm and not so large. Tugging at her. Someone was hoisting her up.

    It was James. His voice sounded in her ear.

    ¡°Now, now girl. I know it¡¯s hard, but it is best to keep your mind off of what has happened for as long as possible. We need to get as much done as possible before McCarthy sends me back to the forest.¡±

    ¡°Why the forest? Why do we have to go back there, the witches are there!¡±

    Hushed cries and looks of panic flashed in the townspeople¡¯s eyes. James¡¯ eyes narrowed at her behind his spectacles.

    ¡°Keep your mouth shut.¡± Came the forceful whisper.

    ¡°No James! No! I will not! I will not keep my mouth shut! I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°What is your name?¡±

    A third voice broke her tirade. She knew this voice, she had heard it recently. She turned her head and was startled to see a large man. He had a scraggly beard and greasy black hair, dull brown eyes and a heavy build. A katana hung at his waist, its simple scabbard complimenting his dirty black kimono well.

    At this point Jillian was floored. This idiot knew her name! She had bumped into him so many times, she wanted to clobber him on the side of the head. But then she remembered how he was always there. When she thought all hope was lost, he showed up, his brown eyes and smiling face. He had rescued her. She bit back a snarky reply and decided to answer with her full name.

    ¡°Jillian, it¡¯s Jillian J. LaPucelle, of the 27<sup>th</sup> Space Infantry Brigade, Captain,¡± she saluted him sharply, her body taunt and erect, auburn hair bouncing as she moved.

    Da Shan smiled at her.

    Out of the corner of her eye Jillian saw James¡¯ mouth hang open. That damned four-eyed freak! At this rate I¡¯m going to become a prejudiced prick!

    ¡°What is it James? Are you amazed that I¡¯m a Captain?¡±

    James gulped, ¡°No¡­ Jillian¡­ it¡¯s that¡­ Da Shan smiled¡­ he bloody smiled.¡±

    Da Shan cocked a quizzical eyebrow, ¡°I always smile.¡±

    ¡°Damn fish-eyes no you don¡¯t!¡±

    Now it was Jillian¡¯s turn to be taken aback. The James. The ever lady-like tea sipping scone munching, prim and proper James was raising his voice with spittle flying everywhere? Now she¡¯d seen everything.

    Da Shan seemed a little insulted though, James¡¯ remark seemed to have struck a cord. He waved his hand dismissively, ¡°Fish-eyes¡­ bah! That¡¯s what all the students at the Academy call me, Deacon Fish-eyes. My eyes are beautiful! They¡¯re beautiful eyes. Jillian, please!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re okay,¡± she managed to hold back a chuckle as Da Shan spread apart his eyes showing the whites and all their ¡°veinyness¡±.

    Da Shan seemed rebuffed, but then his expression sharpened, ¡°Ah, you guys are just in time, I am giving a lecture in the hall soon! Why don¡¯t you come join me? Listen in on my wisdom.¡±

    If seeing Da Shan smile had surprised James, hearing that Da Shan was about to give a lecture contorted his face to look like someone who had eaten a very sour candy.

    After recovering, James sniffed daintily, ¡°Be lectured by you¡­ I don¡¯t ¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going.¡± Jillian¡¯s firm response startled both men. ¡°I need to see something¡­ something to take my mind off of everything.¡±

    Da Shan nodded solemnly as if he understood exactly what she was talking about. She felt a bit of warmth in her heart. Maybe it wasn¡¯t so bad to be alive after all.

    As they fell in line with one another, Da Shan leaned over and whispered to her, ¡°You said your name was Jillian J. LaPucelle?¡±

    ¡°Need help remembering it, old man?¡±

    Da Shan huffed indignantly, the very picture of an offended senior, ¡°Old man¡­ bah! Old man¡­ people would kill to have my life experience and you dare denigrate me?¡±

    This time she shouldn¡¯t hold back her chuckle.

    Da Shan¡¯s face turned red in response and he started muttering to himself about the ¡°youth of today¡± and ¡°women¡±. That last one had really made her smirk.

    She poked him on the arm.

    He looked aghast, as if she had violated a great taboo. Her mirthful green eyes twinkled at him, ¡°It stands for Joan. My middle name is Joan.¡±

    The look of horror on Da Shan¡¯s face switched to one of pensive receptiveness, as if he had thought that was the answer all along. He kept nodding to himself and repeating her name under his breath, as if trying to commit it to memory.

    James leaned over, ¡°Not only does he have the eyes of a fish, he has the memory of one.¡±

    *****

    Room 101. An epitaph famous to all. It was after school hours today, and the school would usually be mostly empty, except of course for the occasional students participating in their clubs or helping out with errands. But tonight, the school was hustling and bustling, girls in blue and green kilts with white uniform shirts and boys with green blazers and grey pants flooded the hallways. Their chatter loud and lively. Every month there was special lecture given on cultivation and wizardry. All the students wanted to (or were forced to) cultivate or train in the arts of magic. For the first four years however, their exposure to these fantastical things was minimal. They had to learn algebra, philosophy, history, repeat McCarthy¡¯s Manifesto every morning while bowing to an image of him in each class and swearing fealty to his undying cause¡ª the usual school things. Probably the harshest part of Academy life was the no dating policy and the separate classes for boys and girls. It was at nights like this, once a month, were the boys and girls could meet in the open.

    There was excitement in the air, a confession here, a rejection there ¡ª and an angry Deacon trying to put a stop to the wildness. One girl with radiant blonde hair hung was approached by multiple boys, her cheerful and enchanting smile sucking them in like moths to a flame. One moth got brave enough, he asked the flame to be his! He flew in at full speed, the heat singeing his feelers, his fellow moths were screaming at him to abort ¡ª but it was too late. A pillar of fire erupted from the little flame and incinerated his wings, sending him careening to the ground in a smouldering heap!This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The rejection of love. How painful. How cruel. How sad.

    His fellow moths looked on with pity and kept their distance from the flame.

    Apart from romance and the bubbliness of youth, there was another reason the students were thronging to this Lecture Hall. The person who was supposed to be giving the Lecture tonight was a bit of a celebrity. Cindy Loo was out on a mission today, a promotional mission. She would be advancing from a lowly Deacon to a full-blown Elder. It was not uncommon, but it was still a spectacular feat. There were about one thousand new Deacons every year, only about two hundred remained by the end of the year. Those two hundred were typically promoted or stayed on for the next year. She was one of the best, one of the elites and it didn¡¯t hurt that she was incredibly beautiful.

    So, you can imagine everyone¡¯s surprise when three adults walked into the room. A tall slender man with glasses, a curvy red-haired woman and a dirty man with a stained kimono all walked in the room and made their way to the front.

    It was a little odd to have adults show up at these events, but not unheard of. But when only two of them sat down, glasses and ginger. The surprise in the room grew and tension fluttered in the air. When the unkempt man in the black kimono took the stage, the tension frothed over into murmurs and complaints.

    ¡°Eh? What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s Cindy Loo?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s¡­ he¡­ doing here?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that Elder Mediocrity.¡±

    Da Shan winced at the nickname, a lesser man might hunt down the person who said that. He might remember that it was a male voice, that he had sandy brown hair and was sitting in the 9<sup>th</sup> row, five seats on from the aisle. A lesser man might pay attention to all that. But Da Shan was not a lesser man. In some ways he was more famous than Cindy Loo, he was a fixture at the Academy as long as anyone could remember, he had been there. Somehow managing to scrap by every year at the bottom of the totem pole. As the murmurings grew a little more insipid and a tad more frequent Da Shan sighed to himself.

    As their instructor I suppose it is my duty to teach them the hard realities of life. Being a good educator is such a burden. Da Shan, congratulating himself on his magnanimity and cleared his throat with a grunt that caused the auditorium to shake and echoed in all their brains. Even Jillian seemed surprised at his power, it made him wonder what she thought of him, he tore his eyes off of her and filed that thought away for later.

    ¡°When did the Elder of Mediocrity have such power?¡±

    ¡°He seems kind of scary!¡±

    Da Shan basked in the adoration of the male students, and with an expectant expression he sharpened his already acute hearing to catch the whispers of the students.

    ¡°He is so not hot.¡±

    Da Shan felt a small part of him die on the inside, he remembered his youth. He was a mortal at that time, just a regular boy in a regular village school. The flashback was quick. It was brief. It was painful. How many girls had he asked out? All of them. Who said yes? None of them. Spring never comes to a winterful soul like him. His heart clenched in pain at the memories. He buried the past where it belonged and focused on the present, his usual neutral expression panning over his face. He looked at the kids, he noticed their innocence, their naivety. Their optimism. It disgusted him.

    ¡°Ahem.¡± Da Shan let out a muffled cough that silenced everyone, he then spoke, ¡°It is with a perverse pleasure that I dash your dreams tonight.¡±

    The students looked around in confusion. Some with open looks of hostility.

    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Da Shan continued stoically and with an air of importance, ¡°Cindy Loo is dead and I have been asked to fill in for her.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    If there was hostility and confusion before, now there was just a void. Emptiness. Blankness. Pure shock. Cindy dead? What insanity was this!

    ¡°It must be hard for you all to be confronted with a man of such status as myself, but I assure you, I will do my best to dumb down what I know to a format that is suitable for you.¡±

    Deloris, who was tucked away in the back of the audience wore a distinctly vicious frown. Is he just pricking around?

    Students didn¡¯t know how to react, none of them were very close to Cindy, but the shock of losing someone you saw almost every day ¡ª who had such a bright future and who was an icon to all ¡ª floored them. They didn¡¯t know how to react. A soft sob started. As the tears fell a chorus of cries almost rang out until Da Shan seemed to ripple with energy and with a mighty shout he silenced them, ¡°There will be no crying today!¡±

    Soft sniffles and sobs still sounded out in the auditorium.

    Da Shan''s voice went hard and cold, the tone he used when he sliced and diced the witches, the tone he used when he threatened Deloris, a tone that was soaked in blood, "Put your tears away."

    The students stopped.

    ¡°Billy Arnold, I believe that is the name of the top student this year. Billy, would you stand up.¡±

    A muscular boy with fire red hair and freckles stood at the front of the room. Da Shan heard James whisper to Jillian, ¡°Your brother?¡± Her face turned positively beet red. The undulations of energy that reverberated from him revealed a strength far above his fellow students. He was an exceptional genius, thought to be at the Major Grade just above Da Shan¡¯s grade. To say Billy Arnold was a genius would be an understatement, he was a one-of-a-kind prodigy. Most students graduated at the Ensign Grade a small number of elites graduated with an Understudy Grade and one or two people every fifty years or so reached Lieutenant Grade. Only one student, ever, in the history of the Sect ¡ª and in most of the world ¡ª had ever reached Major Grade before 18. It was unheard of, and most people even doubted the sects who claimed to have such geniuses, many times, these claims were fraudulent and embellished. The Chancellor himself had his eyes on Billy Arnold... he intended to make Billy his direct pupil. So, none of the students (or Elders) questioned his strength or authority and in general, Billy was a respectful (but arrogant) lad and was in turn respected. But at this moment, his expression was of deep animosity and it was directed to Da Shan.

    Billy stood up, he regarded his fellow students with a cursory glance and turned to glare at Da Shan, his deep and unusually masculine voice sounded out, "Yes Deacon?"

    The students winced, you were supposed to refer to all the Elders as Elders, only the Elders referred to one another by their rank in the Eldership. Da Shan, appearing exceptionally forgiving (or exceptionally weak) let it pass.

    ¡°Billy, who do you think is stronger, me or Cindy Loo?¡±

    ¡°Cindy Loo.¡±

    ¡°Ah, you don¡¯t want to think about that one?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I have anything to learn from you.¡±

    A gasp went out from the student body, a direct challenge to a teacher¡¯s authority rarely happened. But Billy had another identity apart from top student and Mr. Perfect. Da Shan regarded the bristling student calmly and complacently. If he recalled correctly from the many conversations he had with Cindy, this boy, Billy Arnold, was obsessed with her. He would be the perfect target for the valuable lesson he had prepared for them tonight.

    ¡°Billy¡­ come up on the stage.¡±

    Billy came on the stage in the view of all the students, his back slouched with the typical posture of teenage angst, but his rippling muscles making him nearly twice the size of Da Shan in every way.

    ¡°Billy, who is stronger, me or Cindy Loo and please explain your answer.¡±

    Billy straightened and folded his hands behind his back, his answer was precise and devoid of any respect, ¡°Cindy Loo is stronger for two reasons. One she is stronger than you in the present, she is of the Captain Grade while you are a Lieutenant. Two, she will be stronger than you in the future ¡ª

    ¡°¡®Would¡¯ Billy¡­ you¡¯re speaking in a hypothetical so use proper grammar, I mean, she is no longer with us.¡±

    Billy gritted his teeth, anger evident in his eyes, but he complied. ¡°She would be stronger than you in the future, because her potential was projected to be Admiral Grade.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, a true genius. So Billy, by your logic, if her and I were on the same mission and she died¡­ I would probably be dead too.¡±

    ¡°Ha! If you were even worthy of being on the same mission. But, yes, you said it best Deacon. I doubt you¡¯d survive if she didn¡¯t. Unless you didn¡¯t fight.¡±

    ¡°Good good. Now, fun fact. Cindy actually died on a mission I was on¡­ we were on a mission together with sixteen other Deacons, everyone died except for me.¡±

    Billy replied without hesitation, ¡°It¡¯s bad to lie¡­ Deacon.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s dead eyes revealed no expression, his tone was flat. ¡°Billy, I¡¯m merciful, so I¡¯ll let this one slide. Deloris, is what I said true?¡±

    The eyes of the student body turned to the elderly woman at the back. Deloris looked on begrudgingly and seemed to debate within herself for a moment and then replied, ¡°Yes.¡±

    Everyone gasped. Billy¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, he calmly said, "I assume you hid in the back."

    ¡°Billy, your logic is flawed and because it is flawed you would never predict this outcome. Snide remarks won''t change the universe, facts do. Here''s a fact, I am stronger than Cindy, because I am alive. The dead cannot be strong."

    "Fancy rhetoric sir I ¡ª"

    "But even before she died I was stronger than her¡­ your strength is not in what a machine tells you. Your strength is in reality. In whether you live or die.¡±

    ¡°Deacon I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Let me point out another flaw in your reasoning Billy. By your logic, you would be stronger than me."

    Billy allowed a small smirk to creep on his face. As if to say, ¡°You¡¯re just figuring that out now old man?¡± But Da Shan continued unperturbed, ignoring the smirk.

    "Your grade is higher than mine and your future grade is no doubt higher than mine. But, without a doubt, you are weaker than me."

    Billy snarled and opened his mouth as if to protest, but Da Shan cut him off again.

    "Are you a swordsman Billy?¡±

    ¡°Yes I am Deacon!¡± Billy spat out the last word with hatred and clenched his fists till his palms bled. He looked like a rabid dog hankering for flesh to sink his teeth in, his breathing was rapid, and his muscular body quaked with fury.

    Da Shan sneered, ¡°No you¡¯re not, you¡¯re just a weak pathetic little boy who was unable to protect the woman he loved.¡±

    Both Jillian and James wore strange expressions, this was not the Da Shan they knew. James was especially surprised, he of all people knew how Da Shan had suffered from personal loss. Even the student body was appalled at the Deacon¡¯s words.

    Billy simply smouldered on the stage. His anger had reached new heights, he desperately wanted blood. This boy had never killed anyone, but he wanted to. For the first time in his life he wanted to kill a man with his bare hands.

    ¡°I challenge you to a duel.¡±

    Billy blinked. Was this stupid Elder of Mediocrity giving him a chance to kill him? He could hardly contain himself when he cried out, ¡°I accept ¡ª¡±

    Before Billy could react, draw a sword ¡ª or armour himself ¡ª a thin blade was pressed against his throat and sweat went down his back. Fast! The blade was too fast for him to see and a small drop of blood trickled down from where it was pressed to his neck. It was an ordinary steel katana; the blade was not fancy or enchanted in anyway ¡ª but because of Da Shan¡¯s fast draw, the blade seemed ineffable.

    ¡°That¡¯s not fair!¡± Billy choked out the words as he tried to stop himself from crying. He had never seen blood, he had never seen death and he had never been this close to wanting to crap himself in his life. He felt like his world was coming down as he looked at that plain face and greasy hair, that unassuming face that looked like a drawn sword thirsting for blood... his blood.

    ¡°Those were her last words.¡±

 Chapter 6: The Grand Meaning Exposited

    ¡°I want a real duel!¡± Billy¡¯s face crumpled with rage and his right hand gently caressed his neck. Da Shan had withdrawn his blade and held it casually in one hand over his shoulder.

    ¡°Sit down Billy¡­ or I will make you sit down.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t ¡ª¡±

    Thwack! Before Billy could finish his protest, the flat of Da Shan¡¯s blade belted him across the face, then, with an inward step that seemed to defy the laws of physics, Da Shan lifted his weapon and smashed the butt of his sword on Billy¡¯s nose. It exploded in blood. With a resounding plop! Billy landed on the stage and clutched his nose in agony. Before he could writhe or cry out in pain, Da Shan booted him off the stage and onto the ground. The students were aghast, but Deloris¡¯ face was somber. By all rights Da Shan shouldn¡¯t even be able to injure Billy, the boy was a Martial Cultivator and specialized in strength. His body was strong, and his raw power definitely exceeded that of Da Shan¡¯s. Whatever Da Shan lacked in power he made up for with experience. Intermingled with the faces of shock were some pensive expressions, typically in battles between students it was cultivation rank or accumulated manna which decided the winner. There was the occasional upset, but it was rare to have someone cross an entire grade and claim victory.

    As Billy picked himself up from the floor, fear replacing the hatred in his eyes Da Shan paused a moment and ran a hand through his greasy hair before bellowing out, ¡°Who thinks I was unfair to Billy¡­ raise your hand!¡±

    Nearly all the hands went up.

    ¡°Who thinks fairness matters?¡±

    The hands remained up.

    ¡°Does that bring Cindy back from the dead?¡±

    Jillian winced in response, no doubt reflecting on the death of Jack. She couldn¡¯t turn back the hands of time, no one could. As the realization set in the hands slowly went down, starting with the older students and then the younger students. Da Shan stood with his legs shoulder width apart and his chest puffed out.

    A student raised his hand to ask a question.

    Da Shan nodded.

    The boy stood up, it was the arrogant fop from in front of Ed¡¯s store, the one Da Shan had screwed with. His right hand was swollen to almost twice its size, Da Shan felt a small tinge of regret at the prank he had played.

    The boy¡¯s blonde hair bounced as he spoke, ¡°Elder.¡± He began.

    Some students seemed surprised at the deep respect in his voice, Da Shan himself was especially surprised. But the boy continued.

    ¡°My name is Tyler; my cultivation is the lowest in my year and I have lost every duel.¡±

    A chorus of snickers sounded, but the boy had the arrogant bearing of a noble. He ignored them.

    Before he continued Da Shan raised his hand, stopping him.

    ¡°You are nearly a mortal¡­¡± He said.

    The boy blushed, but proudly proclaimed, ¡°For services rendered to McCarthy during the Great War hundreds of years ago, one of us is selected by lottery to join the Academy ¡ª regardless of aptitude.¡±

    Da Shan nodded sagely, as if he had known this all along. Then tilted his head to the side, ¡°What is your family name?¡±

    ¡°Du Puiset.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see, continue.¡±

    Tyler cleared his throat, ¡°How can I learn to defeat those stronger than me like you?¡±

    Da Shan smiled, ¡°If you defeat someone they clearly weren¡¯t stronger than you. They may appear stronger, but they are not stronger.¡±

    Tyler look flustered, ¡°Yes I know! But I want to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°The precise answer is different for everyone, but in general, many people with talent and potential ¡ª like Cindy ¡ª fail to reach great heights. Part of it is luck, another part is hard work. The final part is math. Do the math, if you can¡¯t win, don¡¯t fight.¡±

    Tyler looked annoyed at the answer, ¡°But how can I be a better cultivator! I want to pursue the Grand Meaning, I want to become stronger.¡± He clenched his non-swollen hand, ¡°I want to win.¡±

    ¡°Many people claim to cultivate in pursuit of the, ¡®Grand Meaning¡¯. It has many names. Some call it the dao, an archaic word and unsuitable for our purposes tonight. Even the phrase ¡®Grand Meaning¡¯ is a little off. Here is the problem, life exists. That¡¯s it. Justice and fairness do not. Life is the greatest quantifiable metric of morality and meaning. Justice and fairness are only relevant so far as they preserve life or ensure quality of life. You think life is unfair, but that¡¯s nonsense. Fairness is a category that cannot fit onto life, life is just life. A centimeter is just a centimeter and a foot is a foot. You don¡¯t ask if the centimeter or the foot is unfair, it¡¯s just a metric. The Grand Meaning of life is that there is no meaning of life. Meaning doesn¡¯t exist.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes panned to Tyler, who incredibly frustrated at Da Shan¡¯s responses, sat down. The students murmured to themselves, some were pensive, some provoked, some confused, but all were affected in some way.

    A girl¡¯s voice cried out, ¡°What are we in pursuit of? What¡¯s the meaning of it all?¡±

    Da Shan sheathed his blade and folded his hands behind his back like a wizened old man and tsked softly, ¡°Life has no meaning, fairness doesn''t really exist and our society''s cheap attempts at fairness always seem incredibly unfair. See, though life has no meaning, human life has meaning. The world is not fair, the animals are not fair. But we can be fair. We can be just. We are more than just alive. Plants are alive, dogs are alive, but they are not human¡­ they are not less living than us¡­ but they are not human. The great pursuit of life is this: ¡®What does it mean to be human?¡¯ So abandon this quest of the ¡®Grand Meaning¡¯ and instead look to yourself, and then look to the world around you and ask this question: ¡®What is my place in all of this? What should the world be?!''¡±

    The students looked around in confusion, the occasional Teacher and Elder in the audience was a little more thoughtful. But many were derisive. Some of the more animal-centric members of the student body were already formulating a proper protest against the barbarian known as Da Shan. But the Elder of Mediocrity had a couple more tidbits for them. Da Shan was feeling that his time was up.

    ¡°Before I leave, let me give you two valuable lessons. The first, is a lesson in logic. The sum of the whole is greater than the parts. Look at my sword. It has a blade, it has a hilt, leather wrapping etc. All these when separated are just parts, but when they are assembled together, they become a sword. They are just things apart from my sword, but when metal is fashioned to a blade, nothing has changed but the shape... But I tell you it is greater!"

    There was a chorus of nods. This was an obvious truth. It was one of the small miracles of life, how certain things took on a life of their own as they were used. They weren¡¯t just lumps of physical matter, they were ideas too ¡ª existing in reality and out of reality. Da Shan continued his argument.

    "So it is with life. Moments are part of life, the little moments we have from day to day are part of life. They can be fun, but they are just parts. Life itself is also just a part of human existence. So is death. So is sickness. So is health. The he sum of the whole, not just life, not just death ¡ª but all human existence, that¡­ that is greater than the parts. The pursuit of the Grand Meaning is part of the domain of Life, only ¡ª if life is just a small part of human existence, how much more so the Grand Meaning itself? The meaning of human existence cannot be found in the parts of human existence, but in the telos or purpose of human existence. Just as the meaning of ¡°sword¡± cannot be found in steel, leather or hilt¡­ but its purpose must be found."

    At this point an Elder interrupted Da Shan, "What is the meaning of ¡®Sword¡¯ to you?"

    "It is ¡®friend¡¯." Da Shan¡¯s answer was crisp and true, but his face seemed to sag with grief and his body bow with age. He and his friend had seen much together, caused great sorrow and received great sorrow.

    The Elder bowed respectfully, seeing the change in Da Shan. It was an immensely personal question after all. After he bowed he sat down and pensively looked up, lost in thought. Da Shan continued.

    "Therefore, the purpose of life is not in life itself, nor is the purpose of cultivation in cultivation itself. The real question is this, is there a grand purpose behind humanity or are we mindless beasts? Do we need to create this grand purpose or must it be found? There are a few other options¡­ but you get the point.¡±

    Da Shan paused dramatically before continuing with a flourish.

    ¡°The last tidbit I have for you is very simple. You are all very weak. There are many out there stronger than you and life is fragile and though life itself has no meaning¡­ it is the most important measure of meaning. A sword without a blade is no sword. Do not bother applying the question of fair or unfair, first are you alive? If so¡­ ensure that you keep things that way¡­ or you¡¯ll never be able to discover the telos of life¡­ or the ¡®Grand Meaning¡¯. Why be fair in battle if it costs you your life? Unless you think the grand purpose of your life is to make it fair¡­ then by all means die a foolish ¡ª er um ¡ª honorable death. Okay? Dismissed.¡±

    At those words, Da Shan turned roundabout and walked off the stage as unceremoniously as he entered. As he walked off Jillian tried to get up and follow him, but James pulled her back and whispered in her ear. The both of them quietly slipped out the back, James and Da Shan sharing a long meaningful look before they separated.

    Walking away from the school Da Shan¡¯s mind purred with self-satisfaction as he strode back to the red brick dormitory. Damn, I am so cool. Noticing that Deloris was nowhere in sight, he confidently stomped up the stone steps and into the building. Winding his way through the building he finally reached a simple and weathered wooden door. This place had been his home for almost two hundred years, a sudden feeling of nostalgia gripped him as he slid a key in the lock. Ducking into his room he closed the door. Locked it. Pulled out a couple contraptions from his kimono and triple locked the door. Taking a moment, Da Shan surveyed his room. His dull brown writing desk was in order and his single bed remained unmoved, his closets were as bare as he had left them, empty and devoid of items as the Chancellor had said. The only decoration in his room was an autographed poster of the N¡¯Sync Boys. Da Shan¡¯s beady eyes zeroed in on his bed and they danced with triumphant satisfaction. He took a step forward and then hesitated. He then reached into his kimono and pulled out a grenade-like object and set up a trap on the door handle. Smacking his hands with delight he strode towards his bed.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see the Chancellor sneak in here now¡­ Hehehe. This son in-law of mine, so strong yet so stupid. Didn¡¯t find anything you say¡­ Hehehe¡­ nothing in the room you say. That¡¯s because you didn¡¯t check my neighbour¡¯s room!¡± With a maniacal laugh Da Shan dragged his bed away from the wall and knocked with a bizarre pattern on various parts of the wall. Click! With his knocking complete a hidden compartment in his closet popped open. Da Shan scurried over like the fiend he was and took out a strangely shaped key. Taking the key in hand he peeled back his N¡¯Sync Boys poster to reveal a keyhole that matched the strange key. With a clunk and a whir, the key turned in the hole and heaving at the key, Da Shan pulled, and opened the hidden door. Reaching into this other hidden compartment Da Shan pulled out a lock safe box. Placing it in his lap he grinned as he got to work. Fiddling with a couple combinations and a couple keys from his kimono later, he opened the box and pulled out a small, golden room key. Da Shan then carefully opened his door ¡ª without setting off the traps he had set earlier ¡ª and snuck over to his neighbour¡¯s room and putting the key in the lock opened the door, he dashed into the room and shut the door and double secret locked it as well. Grinning evilly, and congratulating himself on his intricate planning, Da Shan surveyed his hidden lair. He then noticed a small problem with the timing of his brilliant move.

    ¡°Da Shan? Da frig you doing in my room?¡±

    His neighbour was home. Da Shan¡¯s brain worked at the speed of light.

    ¡°What¡¯s up Paul¡­ I uh¡­ I thought you were gone for a week.¡±

    ¡°That was last week.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s brain failed to surpass lightspeed.

    Paul¡¯s muscular body and black hair cut an imposing figure, all the more amplified by the fact that he had sat straight up on the bed, his black tank top revealing the definition of his muscles and the damage they¡¯d been dealt. Scars crisscrossed his body and his aquiline nose and square jaw were looking a little dusty. Paul¡¯s hand reached into his pant pocket, casually.

    ¡°Let me ask you again buddy, what are you doing in my room?¡±

    ¡°Oh, this is your room! Oh, dang man! See I totally got confused. I¡¯m 303 you¡¯re 302, man, and that ¡°2¡± is looking a lot like a ¡°3¡± sometimes. Especially when you follow the curvature of the hump and all that. Hehe! A well curved hump is a good thing you know what I¡¯m saying Paul? It¡¯s all a mistake! I¡¯ll come back later ¡ª I mean ¡ª I¡¯ll be going to my room now.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you get in?¡± Paul pulled a flintlock pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Da Shan. ¡°Answer me or I¡¯ll blow your brains out, how¡¯d you get in?¡±

    Da Shan peered intently at the strange weapon in Paul¡¯s hand, ¡°What is that weird contraption?¡±

    ¡°The gun?¡±

    ¡°G ¡ª u ¡ª n¡­ what a strange word¡­¡± Da Shan carefully said each letter as if somehow knowing the spelling of the word would provide illumination. Paul paid no mind to this behaviour, Da Shan¡¯s reputation as an especially average man and oddness insulated him from a lot of scrutiny. Something Da Shan himself didn¡¯t mind. Paul¡¯s eyes lit up as if remembering something.

    ¡°Oh right, you were off on that mission for the past month so you missed all the news.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d that mission go?¡±

    Da Shan absently scratched his beard, ¡°It went well, mind if I sit?¡±

    Paul motioned to a chair with the flintlock pistol in his hand. Da Shan plopped himself down and groaned with pleasure at the chance to relax.

    After waiting a moment Paul waved the gun and asked, ¡°Didn¡¯t you go out for another one right after? That emergency mission right, sometime today?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the Witch Hunt¡­¡±

    Paul let out a low whistle, ¡°Those are always the most dangerous¡­ Captain was on it right?¡± He waited for Da Shan¡¯s nod before continuing, ¡°And Cindy right?¡± He barely waited for Da Shan¡¯s nod before he chuckled, ¡°You know she likes you right?¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s brown eyes panned to Paul with an expression that resembled a dead fish.

    Paul sighed, ¡°You are difficult one to talk to.¡±

    Da Shan nodded, ¡°Indeed, some people are hard to communicate to.¡±

    Paul felt a vein pop in his forehead, ¡°I was talking about you!¡±

    Da Shan nodded solemnly, ¡°I know Paul, I too have great difficulty with some people! I sympathize with you.¡±

    Paul let out a sigh of resignation, then leaned forward and whispered, ¡°Is the list out yet?¡±

    ¡°McCarthy won¡¯t post a full list of the dead.¡±

    After a sharp inhalation of breath, Paul whispered softly, ¡°Was it that bad?¡±

    Da Shan, who had pulled out some used tea leaves and was airing them out, paused his task to nod.

    Paul leaned back, thoughtful. He waited for Da Shan to stow the tea leaves before asking again, ¡°Who made it back?¡±

    ¡°Just me.¡±

    ¡°Damn man, real shame.¡±

    ¡°They were good people¡­¡± Da Shan frowned, ¡°So what¡¯s a gun¡­¡± He hesitantly pointed at the flintlock pistol in Paul¡¯s hand.

    An impish grin split Paul¡¯s fierce looking face. A look that so unsuited him Da Shan was unsure if he was feeling sick from the sight, not noticing Da Shan¡¯s obvious discomfort Paul nearly exploded with excitement.

    ¡°See this is the latest secular weapon, it¡¯s top secret though, hasn¡¯t hit the battlefield yet. All the cultivators have been talkin¡¯ ¡®bout it for awhile.¡±

    ¡°Ah, what¡¯s it do?¡±

    ¡°It shoots bullets.¡±

    ¡°B ¡ª u ¡ª l ¡ª l ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Okay stop man, you don¡¯t need to spell it out. Yeah, see here! You throw in some powder, cotton, a ball and whazam! With a pull of the trigger it shoots this ball of lead so fast in can puncture through steel.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes widened, ¡°The secular wars will get a lot more dangerous with this stuff.¡±

    Paul shrugged, ¡°Times are changing, cultivators are trying to find a use for these weapons, but it¡¯s not going too well.¡±

    ¡°You think the cultivators will wipe out the people who designed these weapons, stop them from distributing. If the secular armies keep getting stronger¡­¡±

    Paul scratched his chin thoughtfully, ¡°Prolly, I imagine the Cultivator Cabals will kill them all. They don¡¯t like the seculars advancing too much¡­ they let the light bulb go though.¡±

    ¡°May I?¡±

    ¡°By all means.¡±

    Da Shan took the pistol in hand and examined it, his hands ran along the engraving and golden patterns inlaid in the wood. It was an impressive piece of equipment; the secular world was advancing at an alarming rate. Da Shan pursed his lips thoughtfully, ¡°It can probably kill a lot of the lower ranked cultivators, probably a lot of the Lieutenant Grade people wouldn¡¯t survive a run in with this.¡±

    ¡°If you get behind someone without any body resistance¡­ man, a powerless secular guy could kill some of those Psyker Captains. But, it''s not that accurate and getting the bullets and powder''s a pain.¡±

    Da Shan nodded placidly, then turned to Paul, ¡°I want to see how powerful this thing is, want to shoot me with it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure¡­ how many paces?¡±

    ¡°Just from one end of the room, ah! Actually, let¡¯s go in the hallway.¡±

    ¡°Good plan.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you get your hands on this anyways?¡±

    ¡°My cousin is one of the inventors¡­ he made a longer version called ¡®the rifle¡¯ or something like that.¡±

    ¡°Wild.¡±

    ¡°I know eh? Okay, you ready?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you ever shot this before?¡±

    ¡°A couple times in practice.¡±

    Da Shan drew his sword and stood 10 paces away from Paul, he then ¡ª with a flourish ¡ª hoisted the blade over his head, ¡°Alright Paul, give me one ¡ª¡±

    Bang! Da Shan yelped as the crack of the gun went off.

    ¡°Paul what the frig!¡±

    ¡°Oh damn man, I¡¯m sorry!¡±

    ¡°You elf-skin!¡±

    ¡°You said ¡®alright¡¯!¡± Paul¡¯s sheepish tone showing he didn¡¯t believe his own excuse.

    Da Shan appeared livid, though his face was still profoundly neutral, ¡°Not ¡®alright¡¯ as in go ahead you knave¡­ ow frig. Prick me!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that on the floor?¡± Paul scrunched his face as he stared at a bloody object on the floor.

    Da Shan gasped, ¡°Is that my¡­ finger?¡±

    ¡°Hell man¡­ I¡¯m so ¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my finger!¡±

    ¡°Geez man¡­ like¡­ mixed signals eh? ¡­ uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh my gosh look at all this blood!¡± Da Shan¡¯s eyes went wide as he stared at the fountain of blood gushing from his hand, his normally blank face now warped with pain as the shock had worn off.

    ¡°Frick! I¡¯ll get a band-aid!¡±

    ¡°Prick you man! You think that¡¯ll fix this, I¡¯d flip you off but¡­¡± Paul snickered in response, then Da Shan''s face went pale, he continued, ¡°Oh my gosh¡­ I¡¯m bleeding so much. I feel faint, the edges of my vision are getting dark¡­¡±

    Paul stepped up to try and grab Da Shan''s hand, ¡°Dude why is it gushing like that?¡±

    Da Shan jerked back and glared at him, ¡°GET A DOCTOR YOU TWIT!¡±

    ¡°Sorry man! I¡¯m sorry!¡±

    Paul dashed off and raced down the hall, down the stairs and out the door ¡ªscreaming for a doctor. After Paul had left, Da Shan¡¯s face ¡ª which was previously contorted in pain ¡ª returned to neutrality. He walked to the door and using his non-bloodied hand, unlocked it for the second time.

    ¡°Ah, wouldn¡¯t want to leave a bloody trail now,¡± he remarked to himself. Pulling a cloth from his kimono, he wrapped it around his bloody hand and then walked into the room. In a few quick strides he was at the bed, deftly he reached into the pillow case, tore a hole in the pillow and pulled out a gnarled bronze key. Admiring the key for a moment he shoved it into his kimono and went back out to the hall. Lay on the ground and curled up into the fetal position, put away the cloth, squeezed out some more blood for good measure and waited. As soon as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, he started whimpering with pain.

    ¡°Da Shan is everything alright?¡±

    ¡°Old man Ed?¡±

    ¡°Old man my cheeks¡­ you¡¯re the old coot here¡­ frig¡­ is that your finger over there?¡±

    ¡°No it¡¯s Paul¡¯s.¡± Da Shan responded dryly.

    Ed rolled his eyes, ¡°Here, I¡¯ll go get it.¡±

    Paul wrung his hands like a nervous school girl, ¡°Like I said Da Shan¡­ I¡¯m really sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all good man, Ed will patch me up just fine¡­ let¡¯s do that again, this time when I¡¯m ready.¡± Da Shan casually waved off his apology as a stream of blood trickled down his hand, his face looking a little pale.

    ¡°Sounds good, let me just reload.¡±

    ¡°You have to reload it after every shot?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, takes about twenty seconds,¡±

    Da Shan frowned, ¡°That¡¯s inefficient and loud.¡±

    Paul shrugged and started to reload the pistol.

    ¡°Is that a gun?¡± Ed looked up from applying a poultice on the stub where the finger used to be.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Ed snorted, ¡°Nice, I¡¯ve heard it¡¯s quite the deadly weapon¡­ evidently someone¡¯s not a very good body cultivator¡­ otherwise the bullet shouldn¡¯t even have broken skin.¡±

    ¡°Ed¡­ you know I¡¯m not a body cultivator.¡±

    ¡°What kind of cultivator are you Da Shan?¡± Paul had just finished putting powder down the barrel and started wrapping a lead ball in a cotton pad.

    ¡°It¡¯s a secret.¡±

    Ed shook his head at Da Shan''s response, ¡°Don¡¯t bother asking Paul¡­ this guy¡¯s some sort of big shot when it comes to his cultivation. He acts all high n¡¯mighty all the time.¡±

    Paul flexed a bicep casually and thumbed his nose, ¡°Well apparently he¡¯s pretty strong, I heard he just beat Billy Arnold senseless as part of a lecture.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Get out!¡± Ed dropped Da Shan¡¯s finger in shock. A glare from a Da Shan and a couple mumbled apologies later, Ed resumed stitching. Ed shot a glance to Da Shan and then asked quietly, ¡°You bloodied Billy¡¯s nose?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, taught him a valuable lesson.¡±

    Ed''s tone was incredulous, ¡°Isn¡¯t Billy the student the Chancellor wants to disciple?¡±

    ¡°I told you Ed, the Chancellor and I go way back, he won¡¯t be mad. Well¡­ he might be mad¡­ but he won¡¯t do anything about it. The guy¡¯s the strong silent type.

    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Ed nodded insincerely.

    ¡°You know the Chancellor?¡± Paul looked genuinely impressed as he looked at Da Shan, a hint of admiration in his voice.

    Da Shan puffed out his chest and was about to tell stories of his greatness, but Ed cut him off, ¡°Please don¡¯t get him started¡­ I¡¯ve been hearing this junk for far too long.¡±

    Annoyed Da Shan curtly asked, ¡°You done Ed?¡±

    ¡°Yeah Da Da, got the finger all good, the ball took a chunk off though. So uh¡­ your middle finger is gunna be shorter by a centimeter or so. Take this pill here, it should mend in seconds now that it¡¯s properly attached.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyebrows twitched, ¡°¡­ What did you just say?¡±

    Paul shuffled awkwardly and cleared his throat, ¡°Da Shan¡­ I¡¯m real sorry man¡­ I thought you were ready.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine Paul. Say it again though Ed.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the middle finger is gunna be shorter than it was before.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Do I have full functionality?¡±

    ¡°I suppose, you probably don¡¯t want to flip anyone off though¡­ on account of it looking a little funny¡­¡± Ed¡¯s voice trailed off as he noticed Da Shan¡¯s eyes sparkling with a look of intense irritation. Ed coughed, a little too forcefully to be natural, then cleared his throat and looked around. ¡°Weren¡¯t you two going to do a gun¡­ you know¡­ demonstration.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes lit up, ¡°Yeah we were. Paul you ready?¡±

    Ed sighed in relief and got up from the ground.

    Paul checked the gun. ¡°Yeah man, I¡¯m ready.¡±

    Da Shan gestured to Ed, ¡°You should stand behind Paul.¡±

    Ed nodded and then walked behind Paul and tried to discretely look over his shoulder, carefully examining the pistol in Paul¡¯s hand. Da Shan drew his sword again, gripped it in both hands and held it in the waki gamae position. Then nodded to Paul. Paul nodded back.

    Bang! A puff of smoke and a flash of light.

    But before Paul or Ed could fully register the gun shot, they heard another sound. The soft clang of metal on metal. And two dull thuds. The smoke cleared, their senses focused and then their eyes went wide. Da Shan had split the bullet in half ¡ª both halves had careened into the wall ¡ª and he returned to waki gamae before they could comprehend what had happened.

    Paul let out a low whistle, ¡°Hot damn.¡±

    Da Shan stowed his blade in his kimono pocket and dusted his hands, ¡°That¡¯s a fierce weapon¡­ the reload time is a bit problematic¡­ plus it can¡¯t really evolve that much I suppose. Anyways, have good day Paul.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Uh¡­ yeah¡­ you too Da Shan.¡±

    ¡°See you tonight Ed.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ the Bridge of Nineteen Sparrows right?¡±

    ¡°The very same.¡±

    Da Shan went into his room and closed the door and after a few awkward moments Paul went back into his room, waving farewell to Ed and leaving him alone in the hall. Ed rubbed his shiny head vigorously, wiping sweat from the crown of his head. He looked at Da Shan¡¯s door and then mumbled to himself, ¡°What have I gotten myself into?¡±

 Chapter 7: That Fateful Night So Destined

    Da Shan laid in his room as the moonlight poured in through his window. He held his hand up and looked at it in the dim light.

    ¡°The finger really is shorter.¡±

    His throat, parched from a lack of water, made his voice raspier and more sinister than usual. Da Shan was the type to keep his cards hidden, today had made him very tired. He revealed a lot of his strength today, a revelation that no doubt the Chancellor had heard of ¡ª though he probably wasn¡¯t surprised at this paltry display of might. Before his cultivation started declining, he was quite the fearsome figure and in his younger days he made quite a number of violent and foolish mistakes, younger being a relative term for someone over 700. Now, in exchange for "immortality", his strength was sinking. Every Longevity Pill he took sucked away at his vigour. His skin and flesh had become fully mortal and weak ¡ª a side effect of his new cultivation method. He was little more than a mortal at the peak strength attainable, his time on the lower ranks of power had opened his eyes to the fragility of life and how little strength each grade truly represented.

    Bullets eh? Truly a deadly concept. He doubted the Cultivator Cabals would let this invention slide, heads would roll and an extermination would take place. He turned his head and stared at the ceiling. He shut his eyes and listened to the peaceful sounds of the night, sounds he might never hear again. The chirp of crickets continued and the soft sound of hooting owls was occasionally heard and the faint buzz of flies filled his ears. It''s good to be alive. It was a peaceful night, a peace that would end tonight.

    Whether I live or die, at least the secret will be out tonight. Da Shan glanced at the moon and frowned. It¡¯s almost time¡­ better head out.

    Da Shan got up from the bed and held his hand to the moonlight as if trying to grasp it. He drew his katana from his kimono and caressed the blade softly, ¡°Good by old friend, well done.¡± He kissed the blade and whispered, ¡°I love you Katherine.¡± The cold steel glittered in the dull light and a tear fell down Da Shan¡¯s face as he hung his blade on a couple empty hooks above his bed. He took a couple steps away from the bed and hesitated, he whirled around and lunged ¡ª grabbing his blade from the rack and clutching it to his chest ¡ª tears poured down his face and he sobbed quietly to himself. After a few moments of incessant blubbering, Da Shan put the sword back on the rack and then turned around. He wiped his face and slapped his cheeks repeatedly.

    ¡°Crying over a sword, stupid me.¡±

    Da Shan wiped his face again. Blew his nose. And walked out of the room.

    He snuck out of the red brick dormitory and made his way to the bridge behind the forest. It was a dingy rope bridge, it was missing planks and the ropes that held it up were moss-covered and frayed. A small stream ran under the bridge, though the bridge didn¡¯t span an overly deep chasm, it was after all, only about eight feet off the ground. Da Shan reached the clearing before the bridge and looked at the forest beyond the bridge, with both anticipation and trepidation.

    It¡¯s almost time.

    He looked to the moon in the night sky, it was a clear night. All the stars glittered in the dome above, seeming to hang from invisible threads. The warm air seemed to swell with delight and the scent of grass drifted into his nose. Da Shan took a deep breath and walked on the bridge, and stopped halfway.

    He looked around, then said, ¡°Come out Ed.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you know I was here?¡± Ed seemed to melt out of the shadows, his black skin and dark kimono aiding him in camouflage.

    ¡°It was a guess.¡±

    Ed¡¯s face reddened. ¡°Let¡¯s get on with this Da Da, my wife needs my love.¡±

    Da Shan paused for a moment. Ed gave him a look and then asked, "What is it Da Da?"

    "Ed I have something to ask of you, but I think you might find it weird."

    Ed brayed a laugh that was so loud Da Shan''s ears hurt, "Da Da, everything about you is weird."

    "Ah, I see."

    "Though in general," Ed rubbed his chin thoughtfully and continued, "You''ve never asked me to do anything weird, well, except for meeting you on some rope bridge, in the middle of the night, that you''ve secretly named. That excepted, nothing you''ve done has been weird... though that could be because you haven''t done much... Anyways, ask away!"

    ¡°If it¡¯s not weird¡­ I¡¯d like to watch your nighttime activities.¡±

    Ed backed up and clutched his kimono tightly, obscuring the view of his formerly exposed chest, ¡°That¡¯s pretty weird Da Da.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I don¡¯t even know how¡­ you know ¡ª being a Eunuch and all ¡ª you¡¯d go about doing¡­ stuff.¡±

    Ed¡¯s eyes rolled in the darkness, ¡°Of course¡­ you¡¯d be wanting to see me naked.¡±

    ¡°Ed¡­ it¡¯s not like that¡­ my interest is wholly scientific!¡±

    ¡°Mhmmm¡­ yeah¡­ I¡¯m sure.¡± Ed suddenly backed up farther than before, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me this is the reason you called me to the bridge tonight?! This is the favor you wanted! Friggin¡¯ keep the five stones!¡±

    ¡°Please Ed, don¡¯t be ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You stay away man! You want to watch me and my wife, you pervert!¡±

    ¡°ED!¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°I have another matter to talk with you about tonight.¡±

    ¡°You do?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Can I keep my clothes on?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ sounds good¡­ I was just¡­ checking¡­ let¡¯s begin.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    Da Shan hopped into one of the gaping holes in the bridge and landed directly in the stream below with a splash. Ed looked on with bewilderment. Da Shan waded through the shallow water, flipping over a few sizeable rocks, a small frown interrupting his neutral expression.

    ¡°Which rock is it,¡± he muttered to himself.

    ¡°Need a hand?¡±

    ¡°Sure! Ah, no. I just found it. Come down though.¡±

    Ed hopped down with a splash and waded to Da Shan¡¯s side and followed his eyes to a medium sized rock.

    ¡°You ready?¡±

    Ed rolled his eyes, ¡°No need to be so mysterious¡­ just tell me what I¡¯m doing already.¡±

    Da Shan moved the rock with a cry of exertion, exposing a bronze keyhole in the streambed. Ed¡¯s eyes went wide, ¡°That doesn''t look natural.¡±

    "It isn''t, I made it."

    "How long''s it been there?"

    ¡°A few hundred years, give or take.¡±

    Da Shan produced the bronze key that he took from Paul¡¯s pillow and clicked the key in place, lifting a hidden hatch. Beneath the hatch was an oversized handle, Da Shan gripped the handle and grunted, ¡°I¡¯ll need some help Ed.¡±

    Ed got down on his knees in the water and grabbed the rest of the handle, and after a series of grunts and groans they were no closer to moving the handle. After a particularly large heave and ho Ed and Da Shan collapsed into the stream in exhaustion, and let the cool water lap over them. Da Shan''s blank facial expression was downcast and pensive. Ed seemed to be in great confusion.

    ¡°Da Shan¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah Ed.¡±

    ¡°Why is there a handle, under a hatch, under a rock, under the bridge.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Da Shan?¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so friggin¡¯ mysterious, or I¡¯m out.¡±

    Da Shan sighed and sat up in the stream.

    ¡°My secret room is here¡­¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s your own damn room why¡¯d you make it so secure you couldn¡¯t even get back in!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t make it that secure! But I haven¡¯t visited in the past 100 years and my cultivation has declined¡­ so¡­¡±

    ¡°Not only do you not cultivate everyday, your lack of cultivation makes you weaker? What is up with you?¡± Ed narrowed his eyes and regarded Da Shan with a look of pity, ¡°Are you broken?¡±

    Da Shan paused and sat up. Ed sat up too. Da Shan looked his friend in the eye, looked down, fiddled with his disfigured finger and then after a sigh spoke.

    ¡°I can¡¯t cultivate anymore Ed¡­ I broke my body.¡±

    Ed staggered, stunned.

    ¡°¡­ How?... When?¡±

    ¡°About 400 years ago¡­ but I was already doomed because of my cultivation method¡­¡± Like a stream, words and secrets long hidden spilled out of Da Shan¡¯s mouth, ¡°When I became a cultivator¡­ I was 72 and uh¡­ I was duped by a guy named Elder Quan and joined a devil sect by mistake.¡±

    ¡°¡­ By mistake? One does not simply join a devil sect by mistake.¡±

    ¡°I was young and stupid.¡±

    ¡°How young?¡±

    ¡°I was 72.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I suppose for a cultivator young can be a¡­ relative term.¡±

    ¡°I was duped Ed¡­ my cultivation method turned me into cattle for the Elder¡­ he was going to harvest my organs and drain out the vigour¡­ the cultivation method he gave allowed him to do that. He was dealing with the same problem I am now, except he chose the devilish method.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Of harvesting organs¡­ So, you discovered it was devilish on an¡­ operating table?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated¡­ But in the end, I killed him ¡ª with the help of a friend¡­ we killed them all.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡±

    ¡°We paid a heavy price though¡­ my wife¡­ I watched her die and my daughter ¡ª¡± Da Shan stopped talking at this point. His face was impassable he continued, ¡°¡ª my cultivation method sucked at my longevity¡­ I found a method to convert my vigour into vitality and extended my life. So, by alternating between pills and my method¡­ I¡¯ve essentially become¡­ immortal¡­¡±

    Ed whistled and then rubbed his head. He contemplated for a moment and then asked, ¡°But¡­ if your cultivation method ¡ª based on what you¡¯re telling me ¡ª increases your vigour?¡±

    Ed let the question hang, Da Shan nodded. Ed continued.

    ¡°So you cultivate to gain vigour¡­ but that sucks away your vitality, decreasing your longevity¡­ then you take pills to gain back lost longevity and to replenish your vitality you use another cultivation method?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Which is a secret I take it?¡±

    Da Shan nodded and smiled, ¡°My own personal invention.¡±

    Ed rubbed his temples with irritation and began to think out loud, ¡°I see¡­ so let me see if I¡¯ve got this right¡­ You can¡¯t advance your vigour passed a certain point ¡ª thus gaining strength or whatever the benefits are that you use your vigour for ¡ª unless you improve on your conversion rate or get better pills.¡±

    ¡°Essentially¡­ yeah.¡±

    "Being a Psyker is so much easier."

    "Some say so."

    ¡°¡­ Now there¡¯s one thing I never got¡­ what¡¯s the difference between vitality and vigour?¡±

    ¡°Ah! In Anatomical Cultivation, the potential strength your muscles can use is called vigour. Someone who benches 100 has more vigour than someone who benches 50. Vitality is the regeneration rate of your cells, so a mortal who is 70 who benches 100 has the same vigour as a youth who benches 100 ¡ª but the old guy has less vitality. Longevity is how long your soul can inhabit your body¡­ vitality and longevity often work hand in hand, but not always.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see.¡±

    ¡°Longevity pills only give you longevity, at the cost of a bit of vigour¡­ But they do not give vitality¡­ so you can be a guy in a fragile body who lives a long time¡­ but you¡¯ll probably die relatively ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need a full lecture man¡­ I¡¯m a cultivator too, just a Psyker, never had to worry ¡®bout no vigour, vitality stuff.¡±

    Da Shan nodded in agreement and then his eyes shone brightly, ¡°¡­Wow¡­ we¡¯re sharing so many secrets tonight,¡± Da Shan grinned and giggled like a school girl at a slumber party, his long hair ¡ª ironically ¡ª taking away any sense of femininity from the scene due to its obscene greasiness.

    ¡°Give it a rest Da Shan¡­ so why don¡¯t you just take more Longevity Pills?¡±

    Da Shan flinched, ¡°I¡¯m almost immune to your Premium Longevity Pills. I don¡¯t have the money to get better pills, besides, eventually I¡¯ll become immune to those too¡­ in here¡­¡± He gestured to the handle. ¡°Is the solution to my problem ¡ª¡± At this point Da Shan¡¯s eyes sparkled, ¡°The key to infinite power!¡±

    Ed''s eyes widened and he raised his hands with caution, ¡°Calm down, you¡¯re acting like a crazy man.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be a dead man at this rate.¡± Da Shan narrowed his eyes and set his face. Before Ed could react, Da Shan¡¯s hand swooped into his pocket and he popped a pill in his mouth. Da Shan felt his vision narrow and a tunnel of rage consume him. Ed saw the veins on Da Shan¡¯s body protrude and jumped back a safe distance, watching the unfolding scene with a mixture of shock and awe.

    Da Shan howled at the moon, ¡°I will not die here today!¡±

    With a roar Da Shan gripped the handle and ripped it from the ground, tearing a hole in the concrete hatch that both men were unable to open previously. Da Shan screamed as he smashed the concrete to bits with his bear hands, shredding the skin on his fingers. His blood sprinkled on Ed as he went berserk, pounding the concrete door in the riverbed to oblivion. Before Da Shan¡¯s fingers were worn to the bone, he suddenly straightened and went taunt. Then, as if a timer had expired, he collapsed into a heap on the stream, blood pouring from shrapnel wounds and his muscles spasming from overexertion.

    A few minutes later Da Shan opened his eyes to see Ed peering over at him, worry etched on his face, seeing Da Shan¡¯s eyes open, the look of concern vanished ¡ª replaced by a smarmy grin, ¡°You¡¯ve been holding out on me¡­ Vigour Max Pills? Premium stuff. How long you had those?¡±

    ¡°Couple hundred years.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You really are 708, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°706.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You¡¯re not getting your manual back.¡±

    ¡°708 it is.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not gunna thank me for using some expensive Cell Regeneration pills on your hands? And for using my definitely not cheap and definitely extremely expensive lotion on your damaged muscles.¡± Ed rubbed his fingers together in the universal gesture for money while grinning like a loan shark.

    Da Shan looked down and noticed his hands, there were stains of blood on his arms and clothes, but in general the skin was healthy and fresh. Ed glanced down, seeing Da Shan¡¯s puzzlement he supplemented his earlier comment, ¡°Ya shredded them pounding the concrete like an ape, I sprinkled some pills on you to heal you up. And I want compensation¡±

    Da Shan looked at his friend, a rare look of warmth broke his usually neutral expression. ¡°Thanks my friend.¡± Without hesitation Da Shan pulled a heavy pouch of Ducats from his pocket and tossed them to Ed.

    Catching the gold Ed''s face contorted with discomfort, as if the money was a poisonous snake about to bite him, ¡°Ah, don¡¯t mention it.¡± Ed mumbled under his breath in a voice too quiet for Da Shan to hear, ¡°I need better friends.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry ¡®bout it.¡±

    ¡°Alright then,¡± With a flip Da Shan was back on his feet, ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± With a hop he bounded into the newly opened hole. Ed jumped in after him and both men landed waist deep in a massive pool of water, and the water level certainly wasn¡¯t going down.

    ¡°Mind putting a shield up, this is filling up with water pretty fast.¡±

    ¡°Ah no problem.¡± Ed closed his eyes and the water pouring down into the hole ceased and the water on the ground turned into orbs of liquid that ascended out of the hole ¡ª as if in zero gravity. A few moments later Ed opened his eyes. Da Shan looked impressed.

    ¡°You move water so well¡­ were you a Dam Technician?¡±

    ¡°Flood Control.¡±

    ¡°Whoa¡­ thought you were only Lieutenant Grade.¡±

    ¡°Understudy, but my control is exceptionally high.¡±

    ¡°How high?¡±

    ¡°Exceptionally.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see.¡±

    Both men looked at the expansive cavern that ran under the stream, a pillar of white light seemed to stream through their newly minted hole. Beyond where the moonlight shone ¡ª in the dim black ¡ª there was the outline of a massive door. Da Shan walked through the darkness to the stone door. Ed followed. With a turn of the handle the door opened with a series of creaks and groans that resembled a small child sneaking down the stairs. Ed felt like they were breaking into a place, with all this mock secrecy and the mysterious airs Da Shan was putting on. But that did not stop him from being blown away at what he saw. Ed walked in, amazement evident on his face, the room wasn¡¯t overly large, but it was still huge for a room that was clearly carved out of stone. The score marks on the stone showed it was the work of a sword. Inside the room, scrolls, parchments, papers, chests and shelves were piled high and piled wide. Longevity pills were everywhere and bizarre diagrams of the human body. Though it was an amazing thing, this place also gave him the shivers. The thoguht of some 700 year old man digging under a riverbed to make a secret room like this, it wasn''t exactly a pleasant feeling. Especially if the digger was someone named Da Shan, but what''s amazing is amazing. Ed let the amazement creep into his voice as he asked, ¡°You made this?¡±

    ¡°With Kathrine¡¯s help.¡±

    ¡°Your¡­ wife?¡±

    ¡°The next closest thing in my life.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah¡­ I see¡­ Well¡­ we''ll just leave that one there... um... what do we do now?¡±

    ¡°Hehehe! Hehehe! Hehehe! So here is my secret method!¡± Da Shan dashed around the room and emptied the chests on the floor with a clatter, pills upon pills spilled out from the chests and scattered on the floor. ¡°Before I sealed this room I concocted all these pills and ¡ª¡±

    ¡°These are the lowest grade of Blood Clotting Pills¡­ I can piss these out.¡±

    ¡°Ed, if you will stop interrupting.¡±

    ¡°No I won¡¯t Da Shan! You¡¯ve gone insane! These pills are just oral band aids! This is what you put in your hundreds-year-old secret stash?!¡±

    ¡°Ed if you please¡­¡±

    Ed huffed and puffed and rubbed his head with such angst, Da Shan feared his hair would never grow back. Ed gruffly responded, ¡°Keep going.¡±

    ¡°So, after a lot of calculations I¡¯ve figured out how to fix my body. I need to remake it¡­ there will be a lot of blood¡­ so I need a lot of pills.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ why didn¡¯t you have something of higher grade?¡±

    ¡°The same reason I have a secret room, anything I buy or sell and anywhere I go¡­ it can be traced¡­ but what I make in secret¡­ Hehehe¡­ I¡¯m untraceable¡­ incognito baby!¡±

    ¡°You do know that being incognito does not erase your presence.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ it just came out.¡±

    ¡°Ah, very good then. I need you to crush these pills into powder and sprinkle them on me whenever I bleed out.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡­ you¡¯re doing it now?¡±

    ¡°Of course! I need to reform my body tonight and I plan on increasing all my aptitudes. I need to be smarter, faster and stronger¡­¡± He then added in a quiet voice, ¡°So that I can get my revenge.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°I need to start over. I started cultivating at 72, as a result my maximum potential was limited. Especially with this wonky cultivation method I got. After I discovered this vigour, vitality and longevity cycle, I found the absolute limit of my strength... AND IT¡¯S NOT ENOUGH!¡± Da Shan slammed his hand against the wall, ¡°I can¡¯t take revenge like this¡­ I¡¯m too weak.¡± Da Shan turned and regarded Ed coolly, but his eyes glittered with a fanaticism that frightened Ed, ¡°I need a new body. I need to break free to the higher grades... I need to kill them with my bare hands!¡± Da Shan turned from Ed and proceeded to uncork the pill pottles and dump their contents into a mortar and pestle he found, he motioned to Ed to start grinding as he moved away to find another mortar and pestle. But Ed was not happy.

    ¡°This is crazy¡­ how are you supposed to remake your body and not die?!¡±

    ¡°I will die! But then, I¡¯m coming back baby.¡± Da Shan pulled a tome from his pocket and tossed it to Ed. ¡°It¡¯s all in there, the Tome of Rebirth and Rejuvenation: How to Be a New You After 200 Years! A truly great volume.¡±

    Ed opened it and frowned, ¡°The last hundred pages are missing.¡±

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s just the appendix! No one reads the appendix.¡±

    Ed¡¯s frown turned into a scowl, ¡°This is insane¡­ you¡¯re gambling your life on some unknown book, from who knows where ¡ª light untold ¡ª this is what you¡¯ve been working on for the passed 200 years?¡±

    ¡°400 years actually, the title has a scribal error, most of the pages say 400 years and my calculations support this reading. I got the book from Elder Quan, after I killed him¡­ obviously, it was his secret goal!¡±

    Ed hissed in anger, ¡°Damn elf-skin¡­ how can you trust such a book!¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes went wild and flew across the room and gripped Ed¡¯s kimono without warning, clutching tightly, ¡°It¡¯s the only hope I have left!¡± Seeing Ed''s frightened eyes and his own extreme behaviour he released his friend. Letting Ed gather himsel,f he stopped briefly, looked at the ground awkwardly, and continued, ¡°For the past 400 years I¡¯ve been following the vigour, vitality, longevity cycle¡­ as the book orders.¡± Ed¡¯s face bore an expression of marked displeasure and he looked as if he was about to speak, but Da Shan continued, ¡°Now I need to take a couple pills and the process will begin¡­ I will reconstitute this body of mediocrity into the body of a prodigy! I will cultivate all the arts! All of them! But to get there I need to survive tonight... there is a high chance II might die from blood loss, so I need you to sprinkle the pills on me if it''s looking bad.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t do it¡­ you are my friend, I can''t support this.¡±

    ¡°Ed¡­ if you won¡¯t help me I¡¯ll do it anyways and I''ll die for sure in the process.¡±

    "Frig, not if I chain you up!"

    "Try me."

    Ed''s eyes locked with Da Shan''s, his bald head wrinkled with displeasure and sorrow. Ed''s gaze softened and in a reluctant voice he spoke.

    ¡°¡­ I¡­ I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll help you.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ when does this book say to begin?¡±

    ¡°At midnight on the Summer Solstice¡­ so in a couple minutes.¡±

    ¡°Wait. At the Summer Solstice?¡±

    ¡°Yes, something about the saturation of solar energy, ya-da, ya-da. The book had a couple chapters on that, but, nothing important. I started my cultivation cycling 400 years ago on the Summer Solstice and so now¡­ today¡­ today is the day. If I miss the timeframe, apparently I¡¯ll just expire and die after midnight.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ the solstice is tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Lying elf-skin! No it isn¡¯t Ed, don¡¯t mess with me like this!¡±

    ¡°You damn knave, you think I¡¯m kidding?! Look!¡± Ed pulled out his Bloodreader and showed Da Shan the calendar. Da Shan took the machine and his neutral face flashed to an expression of rage¡­ but it was just a flash.

    ¡°Fine! We return tomorrow! Tomorrow is the day¡­ the destined day.¡±

    ¡°Hey Da Da¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°What if you didn¡¯t begin practising your method on the Summer Solstice 400 years ago, what if you had the day wrong?¡±

    Da Shan turned his face away, ¡°There was a note on that in the appendix¡­ but I¡¯m sure I didn¡¯t mess up.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Da Da¡­¡±

    ¡°WHAT?!¡±

    ¡°I think you should find another way.¡±

    ¡°Ed¡­ this is the only way¡­ there is no other way to make someone with low potential into someone with high potential¡­ the best you can do is maximize that potential. The only way to get a new potential is to be a new you¡­ get a new body.¡±

    ¡°This sounds like a very bad idea Da Da¡­ and that book it¡¯s ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have no more of this conversation.¡± His words were harsh and fast, but then Da Shan¡¯s voice softened, ¡°I know you¡¯re just worried for me old friend, but see all these diagrams¡­ this is the product of all my research on this cultivation method. I have reconstructed the appendix as best I could¡­ and the theory behind it is correct. I have been around for 705 years. I may make the occasional mistake, but I am still quite the old dog.¡±

    ¡°I just hope you don¡¯t become a dead dog old friend... and it''s 708.¡±

    ¡°Ah, age is just a number and don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow then, uh¡­ can you leave your shield up¡­ so that we don¡¯t have to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Done, it should hold. Wouldn''t want to have to swim into this place.¡±

    ¡°Good and thank you.¡±

    ¡°Don''t mention it, see you tomorrow then.¡±

    ¡°See you tomorrow.¡±

 Chapter 8: A Visit to the Office

    It was the morning of the next day, the sun was pouring through the windows of McCarthy¡¯s stately office. He faced a figure in a dirty kimono ¡ª who was standing in front of his desk ¡ª McCarthy¡¯s hands gripped the back of his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. His carefully combed hair, with not a strand out of place, stood in sharp contrast to the unkempt expression that was plastered on his face. As usual, Da Shan¡¯s face was impassive, blank, neutral and devoid of all emotion. McCarthy took off his glasses, with a light clatter he dropped them on the desk. He took off his grey jacket. Today was a grey pinstriped three-piece suit ¡ª offset by his bright blue eyes and deep black hair, as always, he looked good. He lifted his hands to run them through his hair, then he remembered the gel, and he gripped the chair with more irritation instead. He stared at Da Shan, indignation in his gaze.

    ¡°What is your problem?¡±

    ¡°Pardon sir?¡± Da Shan allowed an innocent look to glaze over his face. McCarthy felt his irritation rise.

    ¡°Why did you beat up Billy Arnold¡­ he¡¯s my future pupil, you knew that.¡±

    ¡°Ah, that.¡±

    ¡°Yes that.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to answer?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you wanted an answer sir?¡±

    McCarthy felt the veins in his temples throb, his irritation had risen so high that it reached his brain. It was starting to cloud his calm, rational mind. Don''t give in to the rage.

    "I would like one."

    "Ah, I see."

    "..."

    "..."

    ¡°I WANT A DAMN ANSWER!¡± The shout sent Da Shan hurtling to the door and with a bang he crashed into the door, crumpling to the floor in a heap and coughing blood.

    ¡°Get up.¡±

    Da Shan was unresponsive. He cradled his battered body and put on the most pitful expression he could.

    ¡°Get up or I¡¯ll break your legs.¡±

    Da Shan stood up, dusted off his kimono and wiped the blood from his face.

    McCarthy started again, in a cold voice, ¡°Why did you humiliate Billy Arnold?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t like his name sir.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s chair exploded, splinters bursting from beneath his hands and shooting all over the room, ¡°Da Shan¡­ it¡¯s not enough that you won¡¯t help me with our revenge¡­ but you try and stop me from carrying it out?¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes narrowed and his voice came out, in dull threatening tones, ¡°You want to bring an outsider into this?! A young pup who is still suckling at his mother¡¯s breast? Who, if I may remind you, picked a fight with me! I taught him a valuable lesson, a lesson I once taught you¡­ a lesson which you have forgotten.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and what¡¯s that, oh wise Master Mediocrity?¡±

    ¡°Do not judge with your eyes, but with your mind. Billy thought I looked weak, I crushed him. You, you thought I looked weak all those years ago and I crushed you. But if you used your damn brain, you¡¯d see the truth!¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s have another round then, I¡¯ll show you the truth, old man.¡± The air swirled around McCarthy and the room seemed to darken. His eyes had a dangerous look as he whispered, ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you sold that hair pin.¡±

    Da Shan waved a had casually, his passive facade dropped, ¡°It¡¯s just a pin. I hold her in my heart.¡±

    ¡°¡­ It wasn¡¯t yours to sell.¡± The room grew darker and the swirling air felt like the prickling of needles on Da Shan¡¯s skin.

    ¡°You are still a fool, might doesn¡¯t make right, right makes right.¡±

    The darkness receded and the wind stopped.

    ¡°So you haven¡¯t given up?¡±

    ¡°Of course not.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ what is this?¡± McCarthy gestured to Da Shan, ¡°Why won¡¯t you tell me about your cultivation? Especially when it''s so abysmal.¡±

    Da Shan paused, as if thinking what to say and then with a sigh he said, ¡°I¡¯m going to die tomorrow¡­ I lied about having eternal longevity¡­ my method has crippled me¡­ beyond repair.¡±

    McCarthy swayed, his hands reached to grab a chair that wasn¡¯t there, they floundered reaching for the desk, ¡°What¡­ what did you say¡­¡±

    ¡°I will die tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°No you won¡¯t! I won¡¯t let it!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t cheat death, old friend.¡±

    ¡°And they said our Sect couldn¡¯t survive.¡±

    ¡°This is hardly the same thing.¡±

    ¡°How are you so calm! You¡¯re going to leave me, alone!¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t be alone.¡±

    ¡°Prick me! How will I not be alone if you¡¯re gone?! Who else can understand what drives us! What we saw! Light untold, what we did?!¡±

    ¡°Do not speak of this.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s shoulders sagged, he looked up at Da Shan with a fire burning in his eyes, ¡°Death will not come to you, the Anatomical Department has been experimenting with cryo-stasis¡­ we can freeze your body and try and find a cure for your condition.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay I have ¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not okay! Da Shan, let me ¡ª¡±

    ¡°NO!¡±

    McCarthy recoiled as if slapped, but without warning the room went black and his hand shot out in the blackness chopping Da Shan¡¯s neck. Da Shan fell to the floor, his consciousness as black as the room. Light returned to the room, McCarthy¡¯s eyes seemed tinged with insanity, ¡°I won¡¯t let you die¡­ my brother.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Da Shan awoke in a dim room, naked, cold and wet. The ceiling appeared to be carved of stone and lichens were scrawled all over the rock walls. The floor was cold and foreboding, and having lain on it for who knows how long made his bones ache. He sat up and gingerly rubbed his neck where McCarthy had chopped him.

    ¡°Damn Vulcan.¡±

    Da Shan looked around his small accommodations and tried to peer through the steel bars, but the darkness was not an ordinary darkness. There seemed to be something inhibiting sight from piercing through.

    ¡°Witchcraft¡­¡± He whispered to himself and his eyes widened a bit. I thought McCarthy and I wiped this stuff out from the school.

    These arts: Witchcraft, Black Magic and Sorcery, have all been prohibited in this world, because for some strange reason, all have one of two bizarre ends¡­ cannibalism and human sacrifice ¡ª generally these arts have been thoroughly stamped out. But apparently, not here.

    Why is it here¡­? Da Shan looked up and noticed a light breeze passing through the cell, he sniffed the air. Is that the smell of¡­ gerbils? Ah, I must be below the spire of the Smithing Department¡­ Old Man Jenkins loves his gerbils¡­ a little more than any human should love an animal. Da Shan got up and walked to the cell bars and taking hold of them in both hands, he pulled with all his might. They bent a little, but not much.

    ¡°You are underestimating me old friend, these bars were clearly only designed to hold back someone of Lieutenant Grade¡­ that¡¯s all the strength you think I have?¡±

    Da Shan stepped back, and after taking a few deep breaths rammed his finger down his throat, forcing himself to throw up bile, food and a metal rod that was a foot long. After wiping his mouth and wincing at the smell, he took the metal rod and gingerly wiped it¡­ on his naked body. With a flick and a click a blade popped out from the shaft, a blade about a foot long. Da Shan closed his eyes and extended his left arm, without flinching he slashed his arm from wrist to elbow and let the blood pour out. Holding the sword above and parallel to his bleeding arm, he opened his eyes. And whispered.

    ¡°Ferrum, veni.¡±

    Flecks of gleaming metal shot from his exposed wound and what looked like a cloud of grey sand, stormed to his knife, billowing all around and knitting itself to the blade ¡ª extending the sword from one foot, to two feet and then to three feet. Then as abruptly as it came, the grey cloud of dust vanished and Da Shan sagged ¡ª almost dropping to his knees, but he steadied himself through clenched teeth and with a fist to his gut.

    ¡°Obey me damn body!¡± He hissed in anger at the weakness of his flesh, gathering his strength and courage, he took his blade in hand.

    He lifted the sword above his head and breathed in, blood poured down his naked body from the exposed wound on his arm. Hands clenched the sword tightly, he whispered, ¡°Jodan no kamae.¡±

    He exhaled.

    ¡°Ken.¡±

    Like lightning the blade fell, faster than the human eye could follow, it sliced through the metal like a hot knife through butter. Noiseless and lethal. Like a heated element to a kettle, the sword seemed to make the steel bars hiss with steam as it sliced through the top of the gate.

    The first stroke.

    Da Shan recalled his sword smoothly to his favourite position. Blade in both hands he cocked his weapon back and softly called out, ¡°Sha no kamae.¡±

    ¡°Ken.¡±

    Again, the sword passed through the metal like a lawnmower through grass. The blade silently screamed as it cut through the bottom of the gate.

    The second stroke.

    ¡°Fall.¡±

    A formless force rippled from Da Shan¡¯s body and pushed the newly cut metal bars free from the gate, before they could touch the ground, his voice called out again.

    ¡°Ferrum.¡±

    The bars disintegrated before impact, transmuting into a silver and grey cloud that gleamed in the darkness. As if alive, the steel whirled and danced in the air before jetting into Da Shan¡¯s body through his wound, sealing up the cut with a dull grey line. Da Shan¡¯s body rocked back and forth from the sudden ingestion of the raw element, with the sound of loud retch, he vomited blood. Wiped his mouth. Swayed on his feet. Steadied himself. And walked on.

    His naked feet quietly stepped on the stone floor, as if recalling the layout from memory, at every fork, twist or turn he would ¡ª without hesitation ¡ª chose a direction. Sword in hand. Blood now crusted. He cut quite the vicious looking figure, but his mind was racing.

    I knew it. I knew Joseph would do this if he thought my life was in danger. ¡®Tell me your plans!¡¯ He says. ¡®Trust me!¡¯ He says. If he knew what I was experimenting on he¡¯d lock me away for life, until at his snail-like pace, he found a cure. If there even is one apart from my idea. It was stupid to try and tell him. I didn¡¯t even get to say, ¡®But I¡¯ll be back!¡¯ Freakin¡¯ scrub! Horse bridles! But that Witchcraft enhanced darkness¡­ that was pretty weird¡­ Ah, don¡¯t worry about it Da Shan, you can¡¯t delay your plans anymore or you¡¯ll actually will die. Prick me! He¡¯s probably got my clothes, good thing my pills aren¡¯t in my kimono. Hehehe¡­ I¡¯m sure Ed has clothes for me.

    After a few more minutes of ploughing through the darkness, Da Shan finally reached the door that led to the outside. He pressed his ears to the door and heard voices, he strained to hear¡­ it was McCarthy and Old Man Jenkins.

    ¡°¡­Now I¡¯m tellin¡¯ ya boss, this cryo stuff just ain¡¯t ready¡­ my last gerbil was turned into catfood.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m telling you it better damn be ready by midnight!¡±

    ¡°¡­ I ain¡¯t saying it don¡¯t work¡­ but cuz¡­ it don¡¯t work.¡±

    ¡°Does it or does it not work?¡±

    ¡°It work in that it freezes things¡­ it don¡¯t work in that it kills them too.¡±

    ¡°Midnight Jenkins. Mid ¡ª pricking ¡ª night!¡±

    ¡°Nawh¡­ I won¡¯t do it, this human experumimenplanation¡­ we don¡¯t do that here this is a ¡ª¡±

    Jenkin¡¯s sentence was cut off by his strangled cries as McCarthy¡¯s hand wrapped around his throat, crushing the airflow.

    ¡°Jenkins¡­ I swear to you. If you breathe one word of this to anyone I will skin you alive and sell your body to the Witches.¡±

    There were more muffled cries and some garbled words, but Da Shan bolted from the door and hid under the stairs, he could hear the sound of footsteps approaching. McCarthy was coming. With a silent murmur the grey line on Da Shan¡¯s body turned to a cloud again and swirled around his body, slowly the flecks of metal settled on all his exposed skin, completely covering him in steel and eradicating his smell. He held his breath. The door opened. Thump, thump, thump. The dull sounds of McCarthy¡¯s footfalls seemed to resonate in his brain. He heard Jenkins yell.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best¡­ but it ain¡¯t gunna work!¡± With the sound of clothes fluttering and the pounding of feet, it Jenkins bounded away, like the grim reaper was on his heels. On the stairs Da Shan heard McCarthy¡¯s feet do a 180-degree turn.

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you Jenkins if it doesn¡¯t.¡±

    The voice wasn¡¯t loud, but it carried, Da Shan heard Jenkins¡¯ running falter ¡ª as if he almost fell over ¡ª but he righted himself and kept running. With an extra loud thump McCarthy sat on the stairs.

    ¡°Da Shan.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s heart pounded so hard it turned into a kilogram.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry old friend¡­ but I just can¡¯t lose you.¡±

    Da Shan heard McCarthy lean forward on the stairs, they creaked and groaned from his weight. His voice raged into the darkness.

    ¡°How can I live with myself¡­ if I let you die¡­ your heart beats in my chest¡­ how can I live and you die?!¡±

    The strong voice of the Chancellor, one of the most powerful men in the world, cracked and turned to a whimper.

    ¡°How can I live¡­ and you die.¡±

    Tears spilled down his cheeks, they softly pattered onto the stairs. McCarthy cried for a long, long time. He then wiped his tears. He straightened his back. Adjusted his tie. Stood. Walked. Disappeared¡­ into the black.

    With a light whoosh, the iron dispersed and rammed back into his body through the cut. Soon, the thin grey line returned and Da Shan¡¯s face was pensive. He waited a minute or so, then dashed out the door. His feet pumped like a naked man streaking through a stadium, whenever his ears picked up the giggles of a school girl or the chuckle of a boy he bounded into what little darkness he could find in the light of the setting sun. Zig zagging his way through the sect grounds he reached his destination. Naked, but triumphant, he stood at the base of wall where the window to the Chancellor¡¯s office was. In the receding evening light, he put his sword in his mouth and scaled the wall like a squirrel, scampering up to the window. He knew there would be traps and alarms, but he would be gone before the Chancellor would return and with any luck, McCarthy would ignore the warnings that his office was being raided, and instead, search for him. With a smash he broke through the window and tumbled in, his naked body picking up cuts from the shards of glass. Looking around he saw loose pieces of paper on the shelves, snatching one he took McCarthy¡¯s quill pen and wrote a letter, quickly. Spying a blanket in the corner of the room he grabbed it and after wrapping his legs in iron, jumped from the window ¡ª a three story jump ¡ª landing smoothly on the ground. Steel still encasing his legs, he bolted off at four times the speed as before, sword in one hand and blanket in the other, blood trailing down his body from his mouth.

 Chapter 9: That Night Full of Fate

    Ed paced back and forth in his house, his wife looked at him with a worried expression as she sat at the table. Her brown curls bounced in front of her, obscuring her youthful and lively expression. Hazel eyes and soft black skin made her the unlikely spouse for the wrinkled Ed. But the wind of love blows where it wills. It was late and the children were asleep, the only sounds in the house were the creaking and groaning of Ed¡¯s feet of the floor. She pursed her lips thoughtfully at her husband.

    ¡°Eddie¡­¡±

    ¡°What is it baby?¡±

    Her face blushed, she responded, ¡°Why are you so worried?¡±

    ¡°The Chancellor sent out a whisper a few minutes ago¡­ Da Shan¡¯s a wanted man now.¡±

    She gasped in shock, she looked at Ed, curls moving out of the way as she raised her face, ¡°Why what did he do?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the weird thing¡­ there¡¯s no charge. Just, capture on sight¡­¡± Ed paused and locked eyes with his wife, he gulped, ¡°The reward is 1000 Spirit Stones.¡±

    Her face went blank, that was an unimaginable sum¡­ a truly ridiculous amount. She shouted, ¡°That¡¯s insane!¡±

    ¡°I know¡­ That¡¯s a king¡¯s ransom and Da Shan¡¯s no king¡­ but, there¡¯s more.¡±

    She leaned forward to not miss a word, her eyes glittering in the firelight.

    Ed cleared his throat and continued, softly and with trepidation, ¡°The Chancellor is offering compensation to the families of anyone who is maimed or killed.¡±

    She put her hand over her mouth, ¡°Da Shan¡­ he¡¯s that dangerous¡­¡±

    ¡°Apparently there are some secrets about him that no one knows¡­ no one but the Chancellor. Light Untold, he warned me earlier that the Chancellor was his enemy. Crap¡­ baby¡­¡± Ed finally stopped his pacing at sat down on a chair at the table. His eyes were hollow and his wrinkles had deepened. A thousand Spirit Stones, he could give all 12 of his kids some of best cultivation resources money could buy. But there was the risk of death and despite his low opinion of Da Shan as a cultivator, he was truly Ed¡¯s only friend apart from his wife. In his profession it was hard to find friends, of all the people he least suspected of treachery, Da Shan ranked the highest. He was too stupid, too weak to plot. With a heavy and weary gaze, he looked down at the table, pushed his hands to his face and massaged his temples, ¡°What do I do?¡±

    Da Shan peeked out from the tree he was hiding behind. There were a number of problems¡­ three of them to be precise. Three people were heading his way, they were far at this point ¡ª a few hundred meters. It was fight or flight. Da Shan was tired of running. He felt powerful undulations from the three men, Deacons and of the Major Grade, they looked as if they were searching ¡ª theirs eyes scanning the ground and attentive. He sincerely doubted they were looking for a lost wallet on the forest floor. Better look my best¡­ I suppose nothing would be worse than attacking these people with my bird dangling. Though indeed my sword is mighty. Da Shan looked down at his little eagle and petted the ruffled feathers. Your time will come again little brother. But tonight is a night with the boys.

    Da Shan sliced the blanket into the necessary shapes. He looked at his arm and noticed it had scabbed over, the grey line had receded into his flesh. With a slash blood dripped and he winced.

    ¡°Ferrum.¡± He whispered and the iron whirled out of his body, the moonlight catching the specks of metal. ¡°Devora.¡± The steel shot into the strips of cloth, Da Shan wove his hands like a master weaver, the metal danced to the movements of his finger tips. The strips of cloth danced as if alive, knitting themselves to one another. First the arms, then the belt, the body and it was done. A deep blue kimono fell into his lap as sweat streaked down his back. A lot less of the iron remained in the air, about half. Da Shan waved and most of the metal shot back into his body and then he covered his exposed flesh with the newly minted clothes. He peered at the three approaching figures, seeing them still a little way¡¯s off he ducked back behind cover and readied his blade. Without making any sound he sliced a piece of wood from the tree and softly beckoned the remaining metal in the air, closing his eyes he let the steel cloud dance around the wood, carving an ornate sheath for his blade.

    He directed the metal to enter the sheath and in a quiet voice said, ¡°Liquesce.¡± The metal turned into a shimmering liquid in the wooden sheath. He sheathed his sword. Feeling less of a drain on his vigour for keeping his modified sword out, he felt confident again. He peeked out again. They were close now, almost in the danger zone. He clasped the sheath and hilt of his blade and strained to hear their soft footfalls on the forest floor. Their footsteps lightly crunched on the grassy floor as they approached. His ears picked up their faint chatter and the sound of their breathing. He counted down in his head.

    1¡­

    2¡­

    3¡­

    4¡­

    The dull murmuring of their voices turned into barely audible whispers, he strained his mind to hear their conversation, but his pounding heart and mental countdown stifled their words.

    5¡­

    6¡­

    ¡°Lovely night isn¡¯t it?¡± The first called to the second.

    7¡­

    ¡°It would be much better indoors!¡±

    8¡­

    ¡°It¡¯s your fault that we¡¯re out here!¡¯ The third man hissed at the second, annoyance plain in his tone.

    9¡­

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to lose my purse out here boys¡­ Normally I¡¯d look for it by myself but there¡¯s a lot of money in it and it¡¯s dark¡­ I need help.¡± The second man¡¯s reply broke Da Shan¡¯s count, he nearly stumbled out of the shadows.

    Purse? Money?! They¡¯re out here looking for a purse!!! Eh¡­ what are the chances? They really did lose money out here... Did they? Da Shan leaned his back against the tree and sat down. I won¡¯t leave this to chance. He shut his eyes as if he had fallen asleep and waited for them to walk by. It didn¡¯t take long.

    ¡°Oh hey! Greg! I found someone!¡±

    ¡°Eh? Who is it?¡±

    ¡°Hmmm, looks familiar.¡±

    ¡°Is that Da Shan?¡±

    ¡°You know who this is Greg?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s Da Shan, he¡¯s on the third floor.¡±

    ¡°Oh, another Deacon?¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s he sleeping out here?¡±

    Greg scratched his head and then answered to his companions slowly, ¡°I think since he just finished a mission¡­ he must be tired. Looks like he really is asleep.¡± Greg leaned in and stared intently. ¡°Normally his kimono is a little dustier though¡­ must¡¯ve changed¡­¡±

    ¡°Looks like he really did come back from a mission. How¡¯d you know Greg?¡±

    ¡°Paul told me, also said he shot his finger off by accident.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyebrows twitched, but none of the three noticed.

    "Oh! You got to see Paul''s gun?"

    Greg smiled proudly, "Yeah, he even let me borrow it." He and his companions gazed again at Da Shan.

    ¡°Maybe we should wake him and ask if he¡¯s seen your purse.¡±

    ¡°Why would he know where Greg¡¯s purse is?¡± A noble sounding voice questioned the other companion.

    ¡°I dunno, maybe he found it and pocketed it.¡±

    ¡°Suppose we could ask then... I still don''t like it. He is sleeping after all.¡±

    Both the men turned to look at Greg who just shrugged. The first one gave Da Shan¡¯s shoulder a rough shake, ¡°Hey Da Shan wake up!¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes fluttered open as if coming out of a deep sleep, his eyes went wide with fright when he saw the three figures looming over him. He scurried back with panicked shouting, ¡°Get away! Get away!¡± And rammed his back hard against the tree.

    All three of the men backed up and Greg raised his hands to calm Da Shan while saying, ¡°Yo Da Shan, it¡¯s okay, it¡¯s me Greg¡­ remember?¡±

    ¡°¡­Greg?¡± Da Shan¡¯s eyes looked groggy and unfocused and then slowly cleared as if the fog had lifted, ¡°Ah Greg from Accounting?¡±

    ¡°No that¡¯s Bloomenthal.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Greg from Secular Studies?¡±

    ¡°No that¡¯s VanChance, it¡¯s Greg from ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh from Alchemy!¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Da Shan, it¡¯s Greg from the fourth floor.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the guy who keeps telling me to keep the noise down?¡±

    ¡°The very same!¡± Greg looked delighted at being recognized.

    Da Shan wore a frown. ¡°Charmed.¡±

    Greg smiled, wiping away the awkwardness with a toothy grin. He folded his hands across his chest, ¡°I¡¯ll get straight to the point so you can get back to your¡­ very important work.¡± Greg¡¯s overly friendly wink that followed his remark did little to warm Da Shan¡¯s heart, but Greg ploughed on, ¡°Have you seen my wallet? It¡¯s purple with grey stripes and a family crest on it.¡±

    ¡°Ah, no, I have been sleeping the whole time.¡±

    "You sure?"If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "Yes."

    ¡°Well... in that case that¡¯s all buddy, if you see it please drop it off in my room, I¡¯ll make it worth your while.¡±

    ¡°I will Greg. Is that all?¡±

    ¡°Yep, that¡¯s everything.¡±

    ¡°Ah well, sorry I couldn¡¯t be of any help. Take care Greg.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡± Greg waved nonchalantly ¡ª as if saying ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it¡± ¡ª and Da Shan turned to walk away, but Greg¡¯s voice called out after him again.

    ¡°Hey buddy, you should sleep in your bed.¡±

    ¡°I will probably go do that.¡±

    ¡°Da Shan, wait! There¡¯s something on your back.¡±

    Da Shan craned his neck to try and see the back of his kimono and then reflexively ducked as Greg¡¯s foot hurtled by taking a chunk out of the tree beside Da Shan. Splinters exploding everywhere as Greg laughed, ¡°You¡¯ve got 1000 stones on your back!¡±

    Da Shan rolled to the side, as an explosion of stone burst from the place where he was before, the first companion had attacked and was grinning wickedly.

    Greg¡¯s a Martial Cultivator, the big one¡¯s an Elemental Cultivator ¡ª at least of the Earth Element ¡ª and the last one is¡­ doing nothing?

    And so it was, the third man watched idly as if the fight didn¡¯t interest him ¡ª or as if Da Shan was too weak to pose a threat. Da Shan regained focus as he leaned back and pivoted on his feet dodging a series of kicks from Greg. Each kick sent out ripples of air that scored the earth and rattled Da Shan¡¯s brain.

    Upper Major class, the Elemental Cultivator is average.

    An incoming high kick was swatted away by the flat of Da Shan¡¯s blade, Da Shan turned and ran up the dilapidated tree, leaping off after three steps ¡ª carefully avoiding a series of rock bullets that demolished what remained of the tree. Da Shan turned his body in midair using the momentum to empower a mighty downward chop, Greg¡¯s eyes narrowed and he stepped to the side to avoid the fierce swing ¡ª moving out from in front of the Elemental Cultivator.

    Got you. Da Shan rejoiced in his mind as his soft voice lolled out into the night, ¡°Ferrum.¡±

    Mid-swing the blade disintegrated into a cloudy grey line that whipped out and extended nearly twenty meters and before the Earth Cultivator could react, the line had lashed through him, bisecting him cleanly. No blood leaked out ¡ª the cut was extraordinarily clean ¡ª and the cultivator slunk to the ground in a heap, his face still in the same menacing smile he wore when he had hurled rock bullets at Da Shan.

    He stumbled at the death of his friend, the blood and gore making his mind go blank. ¡°Rudeus!¡± Greg shouted. At the sound of Greg''s shout the third man¡¯s disinterested face snapped to attention and reached into his pocket for his weapon. Greg blinked away tears then cursed in his mind. The guy''s still here!But it was too late, he heard a soft voice call out.

    ¡°Ferrum, veni.¡±

    Greg whirled around to see Da Shan¡¯s reconstituted blade hurtling at him at breakneck speed. Greg roared forming a cross-arm block, underneath his shirtsleeves, two bracers glowed brightly with a golden light. Greg¡¯s roar was cut short and his eyes were opened in shock as Da Shan¡¯s blade sliced through his guard and ended his life. He fell to the ground unmoving, unable to even feel regret in his last moments, Da Shan¡¯s blade was too swift.

    The third man was sweating profusely as he shakily drew a heavy zweihander from his pocket and held it up over his head. The sword was ornate, yet simple. Shinning gold patterns decorated the one side of the blade, while the other was of plain glimmering steel. Unsteadily the man clenched his heavy blade and waited. Da Shan waited. The man calmed his breathing and held the guard firmly, determination in his eyes and a touch of confusion. He spoke first.

    ¡°Thank you for waiting Da Shan¡­ I admit I have underestimated you greatly.¡±

    ¡°Ah, no problem, you were not in combat. To kill you in such a way would violate the etiquette of my sword.¡±

    The man nodded with approval, and then relaxed his guard, letting the tip of the sword smoothly fall to the ground and touch the dirt, ¡°As it would mine, that is why I refused to participate in a three-on-one. Though it seems that strategically it would have been the right decision.¡±

    ¡°To be of the sword often leads us in that path.¡±

    ¡°Aye, ¡®To live by the sword is to die by the sword.¡¯¡±

    ¡°¡¯To die by the sword is to be made alive by the sword.¡¯¡±

    Both men smiled at the completion of their formulaic greeting, the blonde moustached man raised his heavy sword slightly, ¡°To raise my blade against a man of chivalry pains me, but to not avenge my friends would be a dishonor.¡±

    ¡°I understand and I am delighted to meet a man of the Code, what is your name?¡±

    ¡°Olaf VanWolfwood, the only son of my Father, the only one of my name.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Is your mother perhaps?¡±

    ¡°She is awaiting me in the Rolling Green Hills.¡±

    ¡°And your Father?¡±

    ¡°A tired old man who waits to meet her as well.¡±

    Da Shan felt tears welling in his eyes and his heart clenched, was he about to make a father experience his pain? Damn¡­ you bet I am¡­ Damnit¡­ I really am. I will do it. Yes, he had done this so many times before, but only to the damned sons of Witches, Warlocks and the Vile¡­ never to a knight and never to a knight who followed the Code. Da Shan''s heart was heavy.

    ¡°I must¡­ apologize to your parents, the Hills alone know the weight of my regret.¡±

    ¡°Accepted, if ever you get the chance, tell my father how I died.¡±

    ¡°¡­I will make the tale larger than life.¡±

    Olaf smiled and closed his eyes, then opened them. His green eyes catching the moonlight and his wispy blonde hair dancing in the evening breeze. He widened his stance, his tight grey trousers blending into the night. His muscles clenched, bulging in his patterned green gambeson. He whispered.

    ¡°Erste Haltung, Ochs.¡±

    Olaf kept his blade pointed at Da Shan, gripping it with both hands, he raised it above his shoulders. The blade extended straight.

    ¡°Seigan no kamae.¡± Da Shan held his blade out at a 45-degree angle and relaxed his body. The wind rippled along his back, pulling up dull brown and grey forest leaves that floated in the evening light. The night held its breath. The crickets stopped. The hooting of owls ceased.

    They shuffled.

    One step each.

    They inched closer.

    They widened the gap.

    The gap narrowed.

    Olaf leaned forward with a feint.

    Da Shan stepped right to counter.

    Olaf stepped left.

    Da Shan¡¯s toes pinched the ground.

    Olaf steadied his blade, keeping it straight and high.

    Crunch.

    Da Shan¡¯s toes crunched the earth and like a bolt of lightning he exploded forward, crossing the gap in an instant. His stance shifted mid-sprint and he lifted the sword above his head, preparing for a powerful chop. Olaf twisted his blade to intercept and thrust it out to parry. But the expected collision of steel did not occur and Olaf¡¯s blade poked air. Instead of chopping Da Shan had lifted his arms so far back that the spine of his blade was almost scratching his back. Olaf stumbled forward, caught off balance from the lack of impact. Da Shan brought the hilt of his sword down on Olaf¡¯s head with a resounding crack! Olaf doubled over in pain, one hand flailing the other holding on but letting his sword hang off to the side. Da Shan swung his arms like a major league batter, sending his sword¡¯s hilt into Olaf¡¯s face, forcibly knocking his head and body back. Pivoting his blade Da Shan quickly thrust the blade through Olaf¡¯s heart, and yanked it out before Olaf realized what happened. He swung his blade with one hand ¡ª flinging all the blood off into the ground ¡ª and sheathed his sword, and stood in a resting stance, his one hand casually on the butt of the weapon.

    It was a good fight. Blood trickled down Olaf¡¯s mouth as he mouthed the words silently to Da Shan.

    Respect and a mixture of pain filled Olaf¡¯s eyes, but his expression was of relaxed resignation, he knew this was the most likely outcome and he had already to face his death. Closing his eyes, Olaf toppled backwards ¡ª about to fall on the grass, but felt shaky hands catch him and lower him gently to the ground. As Olaf succumbed to the black, he allowed a small smile to flit across his face.

    Da Shan bent down and asked, ¡°Any last words?¡±

    Olaf¡¯s smile grew a little wider, ¡°I see my mother sitting on the Green Hills.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes itched and stung. Olaf¡¯s smile stopped and the soft glow of life left his body. Da Shan wished time would freeze, he wished he could take it back. But he wouldn¡¯t take it back¡­ it would disgrace Olaf, himself and his own plans for revenge. Da Shan felt hot tears slowly trickle down his face, he had never felt so dirty in his life. He had killed a truly good man and he was doing to another father what the most evil of men had done to him.

    What does this make me?

    He knew that, probably, he had done this sort of thing before, many people had died at his hands in the 600 odd years he¡¯d been a cultivator. He generally tried to kill the wicked, but even good cultivators ¡ª like Joseph McCarthy ¡ª were only good in a very relative sense of the term. He himself was no saint, but he had never broken the Code ¡ª in a very legalistic sense of the word. For him life was the most important thing, the Code was not more important than his life. But this boy, his life for the Code. He had never seen this. Never. But neither did he truly try to find people who lived by it or live by it himself.

    He ambushed men, ganged up on his enemies and did all sorts of less chivalrous things. He was also about to violate the most fundamental precept of the Code by reworking his body. But all that did not bother him. This was different, it wasn¡¯t just that his life philosophy was shaken, but it was the human tragedy of it all. Olaf was just a twenty something-year old boy and the only boy of a father, of a father who had lost a wife. His blood was warm and still innocent. And the painful similarity to his own situation grieved him. But he was an old dog and though he was a bit off balance, this wouldn¡¯t shake him. Philosophy is best left to the sages. I need to find Ed and get this over with¡­ damn¡­ I almost hope this kills me.

    Da Shan removed the cloud of iron from his clothes and felt a heavy burden lift from his energy reserves as the clothes fell apart, leaving him naked. It was draining to keep the steel swarm out and even more draining to keep it active on items. Making the sheath had alleviated the burden keeping the blade out put on his energy, and dismantling the clothes had made the burden almost non-existent. He took a gander at his new wardrobe with the callousness of one who had done this many a time before. He mixed and matched from the outfits of the three men, and cursed softly to himself as he realized that bisecting the Elemental Cultivator ¡ª who had the nicest clothes ¡ª was the dumbest thing ever. He cut out their storage pockets and stitched them to the makeshift kimono that he had sewed together with needles made from the iron swarm. His eyes fell on the peacefully sleeping Olaf. After hesitating for a few moments Da Shan took out Olaf¡¯s storage pocket and stitched it to his kimono, looking at the slumbering knight he felt his forgotten paternal instincts seize his heart.

    ¡°If only you weren¡¯t in the company of these fools young man. You would have lived past tonight. Rest well¡­ my son. I will care for your father if I can,¡± Da Shan spoke as he shook his head and committed young Olaf¡¯s face to memory.

    He left Olaf¡¯s clothes on his body and used the leftover fabric to make a blanket and covered the corpse and ¡ª after letting the iron rejoin his blood stream ¡ª darted off into the night.

    He meandered through the sect grounds, avoiding security patrols and the people who were on the hunt. Eventually, under the cover of darkness, Da Shan made his way to the town near the sect. Time was limited and Da Shan zig zagged his way through the streets of the town, it was getting dangerously close to midnight, too close for Da Shan¡¯s comfort. It wouldn¡¯t take long to get to the forest, he had a Teleportation Scroll for moments like these ¡ª Ah, a Teleportation Scroll that was in my kimono. Panic began to set in. It had taken a very long time to escape the sect, it would take a ridiculously long time to break back into it and go to the forest. Damn you McCarthy! I didn¡¯t think you were so unhinged that you would just attack me right there, I thought you would at least wait a couple days. Frig! Prick you Joseph! Prick you! If I die tonight I will haunt you so badly! Just you wait, freaking hell¡­ Wait! Ed¡¯s probably got a couple scrolls lying around. Da Shan¡¯s hands flitted to his three newly acquired storage pouches and was thoroughly disappointed at their contents. A measly 1500 ducats isn¡¯t going satiate that old codger. Hmmm, I think that¡¯s a Kicking Technique Manual¡­ I suppose it¡¯s worth a few hundred ducats, but it is definitely not as good as a Cultivation Manual. Frig¡­ this Greg guy was useless, the manual¡¯s only White Grade. As Da Shan pondered on his newly acquired financial woes and potential imminent death, he found himself in front of Ed¡¯s door. He said he owes me a five stone favor¡­ a Teleportation Scroll is probably around 10 000 ducats? Something like that. Well, it¡¯s not even one stone so Ed better just cough it up.

    Da Shan knocked on the door and waited, peering into the peephole. He caught sight of an approaching black bald head and smiled. Ed¡¯s truly the best friend I¡¯ve ever made¡­ he wouldn¡¯t try and lock me in a cell and freeze me for a thousand years. They don¡¯t make them like that anymore. Eh¡­ well I suppose he¡¯s younger than Joseph¡­ Wait does that mean the generations are getting better with time?

    Ed opened the door, a look of surprise crossed his face when he saw Da Shan¡¯s arms wide for a bear hug, a look that Da Shan smirked at. This old fool, thought I¡¯d be dead. He embraced his elderly friend with a shout of joy.

    ¡°Haha! Ed my man, have I got a ¡ª¡± Da Shan felt as if a massive weight had crushed his consciousness. He nearly blacked out and staggered, his arms that were slung around Ed for a hug, weakened and fell. The generational gap is freaking massive, talk to me ED! Da Shan mentally paused and marveled at his ridiculous thoughts, but found he was having a hard time concentrating. Why can¡¯t I think seriously?

    He stumbled and croaked out, ¡°Ed what the ¡ª¡± Another mind blast pounded into his consciousness, dealing a massive blow that made the world spin. Da Shan errantly tried to swing his blade, but felt as if his brain was about to burst as another blast impacted his mind. Frig, I need to make new friends. Da Shan¡¯s shattered mind struggled to think coherent thoughts and maintain the basic bodily functions necessary to stay alive, but it was useless.

    ¡°Damn Psyker! I trusted¡­ I trust¡­ I¡­¡± Da Shan fell to his knees and then collapsed onto his back, twitching violently as blast after blast pounded into him ¡ª his words growing increasingly sparse and incoherent. The pain stopped and a cold numbness creeped up on him and he lost all strength as he felt his body going still. As that last strand of his consciousness tried to resist falling into a deep slumber, one thought and one thought only, kept him awake.

    Why?

 Chapter 10: Now Hast Thou But One Bare Hour

    Joseph McCarthy strolled through the sect grounds, his unhurried and calm pace were just a front. His mind was in complete turmoil and in absolute chaos. On thought had upended his usual calm rational thought processes, he was occupied with one thing and one thing only.

    Da Shan! Where are you?!

    He passed by small groups of people, young lovers, groups of friends, Teachers running around making last minute preparations for morning classes ¡ª and even some of his search teams. He¡¯d sent a whisper ¡ª a type of instant communication he designed for the sect based on his powers ¡ª to everyone Major Grade and above, and a special communication to his Auditors. They would find Da Shan tonight. He was confident of it. But that still wasn''t enough, he needed certainty. They must find Da Shan tonight. The only good news of the night so far was that Jenkins had given him assurances that the cryo-freeze was ¡°mostly ready¡±. He allowed himself a small smile, calming the worry he felt in his mind for his friend, the dearest friend he had ever known.

    I won¡¯t let you die Da Shan.

    He felt his mood lighten. He walked tall and proud, his pinstriped blue suit, handsome face and perfect hair made him stand out in the crowd, but not because he was the Chancellor. Most people had never seen the Chancellor, some imagined an aged school master, or a kind grandfather. But McCarthy was not just a pretty face with a fancy title... he wasn¡¯t the Chancellor of one of the most powerful sects in the world because of a name plate. No, no, McCarthy was one of the strongest men alive and when you have cultivated to such absurd levels of strength, people feel different around you. Your power can''t be fully suppressed. People move out of your way automatically, their bodies reacting to your presence before they can recognize your strength with their minds. Their eyes perpetually staring at the ground, unable to meet the hot gaze of a full-blooded cultivator. Power. McCarthy embodied power.

    He breathed deep, though he was worried, the hunt made him feel¡­ alive. He¡¯d been behind a desk for too long, he needed to go out and slay some Witches. He allowed a small smile to float on his face as he recalled his younger days.

    ¡°Chancellor! Chancellor!¡±

    The heads of the few passersby jerked as if drawn by some strong magnetic force. Did he say Chancellor? Whispers began sounding out and McCarthy allowed himself to bask in their reverence before he responded.

    ¡°What is it Lee?¡±

    ¡°A group of Deacons have found Da Shan in a forest, they¡¯re closing in now.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s back straightened and he allowed the small smile to blossom into a full-blown grin, ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Lee saluted and briskly walked off towards the forest, McCarthy matched him, step for step and took a glance at his secretary. Lee was an awkward looking fellow, but there were no better secretaries to be found. He was a tall, lanky angular man with a hook nose and a gangly form, his current walking steps shorter and more awkward than his form would allow ¡ª obviously so McCarthy could match his steps. Prompt, exact, he was never in a rush. Unless he was under the threat of death, occasionally McCarthy threatened to kill him if he didn¡¯t get a certain task done ¡ª and tonight was one of those nights. Lee¡¯s blonde hair and blonde pencil thin moustache were frayed and flopping as he walked, the normally finely combed and oiled look, replaced for something a little more¡­ dishevelled. McCarthy absently waved his hand, a gentle wind flited along Lee¡¯s body, cleaning dust from his grey three-piece-suit and arranging his hair with invisible fingers.

    ¡°Thank you, Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it, I know how you get when you can¡¯t have everything in order.¡±

    Lee¡¯s silent nod ended the conversation, he absently smiled and thought to himself. I think we are speaking of your OCD here Chancellor.

    After a few brief moments of quiet, McCarthy broke the silence. ¡°Who are the Deacons?¡±

    ¡°Greg Matthas, Xiao Xiao and Olaf VanWolfwood.¡±

    ¡°Olaf¡¯s a Commander Grade Deacon, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Lee¡¯s eyes widened a little, the only reason he knew this information was because he had requested it when they sent their message in. The Chancellor¡¯s monstrous memory always amazed him. Every book in the library had been read by him, there were hundreds of thousands of books, but he¡¯d read them all. And all the call numbers memorized ¡ª as far as Lee could gather at the very least. He also knew the names of all the students and Elders, their ages and Departments. Now Lee could add their cultivation levels to the list. It was disgusting that one man could house so much talent. Most Elemental Cultivators were not the rational type, more the commune with the earth and dance naked around the fire type. Especially wind Elementalists, they tended to be a little¡­ odd. Well I suppose it¡¯s odd that¡¯s he¡¯s so rational¡­ In a sense he¡¯s the most odd of all the Elementalists in that he¡¯s not that odd. Truly, he has the mind of a Wizard. Lee felt a question come to him.

    ¡°Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lee.¡±

    ¡°Why are we pursuing Da Shan?¡±

    ¡°Because I want him.¡±

    Lee nodded silently, his attempt at conversation failing. But he was not deterred, a few more moments later ¡ª as they approached the trees ¡ª he asked his question more precisely.

    ¡°Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lee.¡±

    ¡°What I meant to ask is: ¡®Why is the most powerful person in the sect going after a Lieutenant Grade Deacon?¡¯ Surely, we can wait for Greg and his group to bring Da Shan to us¡­ and take care of more¡­ pressing matters.¡±

    McCarthy whirled on Lee, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close, the menacing gaze he gave the spindly secretary the fright of his life.

    ¡°Never. Speak. Of. That.¡±

    Lee was shaky, but he calmed his heart and felt the blood begin to flow back into his pale face and said, ¡°Yes, Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    With a shake McCarthy tossed Lee to the ground. With a huff McCarthy dusted off his sleeves, adjusted his jacket and his cuff links as Lee slowly stood up. McCarthy regarded his secretary¡¯s dirty clothes, and with a frown he waved a wind to tidy him up for the second time. Looking off awkwardly, McCarthy muttered a barely audible apology, to which Lee nodded and waved off silently. McCarthy cleared his throat and spoke as they both started walking again, ¡°There are two reasons I feel the need to go. One, him and I have an association. Two, I am worried for Greg and his group¡­ Da Shan may be weak now, but he was once a powerful Berserker and I¡¯ve always felt that he¡¯s been hiding his true strength.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    They reached the forest and Lee abruptly stopped, he sniffed the air like a hound and growled like an angry wolf. His eyes flashing yellow.

    ¡°Blood is in the air.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Greg¡¯s, I know his scent and ¡ª¡±

    Whoosh! With the roar of a mighty gale, McCarthy dashed off. Lee sighed, and sprinted off after the Chancellor.

    McCarthy hurled through the woods at break neck speed, wind swirling around his feet, propelling him forward at an unimaginable speed. His hands were like rudders, guiding him as he flew through the forest ¡ª while being only a foot off the ground. He dodged and maneuvered, avoiding every obstacle with the grace of a figure skater and the flexibility of a prima ballerina. He was an artist of motion, painting an ethereal and airy portrait in the moonlight. In a matter of seconds, he had reached the clearing where the battle between Da Shan and the other Deacons had taking place. Allowing the air to dissipate, he dropped out of mid-flight, running to prevent himself from falling over. After righting himself he calmly surveyed the battlefield, mentally summoning a wind to tidy up the random leaves and dirt on his suit ¡ª and to arrange his hair. His gaze sharpened when it fell upon the three dead bodies. Confusion darted across his face and annoyance.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    There¡¯s no way Da Shan could kill these guys. Even Greg was stronger than him.

    His eyes trailed around the forest scouring for any clues as to what occurred. He walked up to the corpses and bent down, examining them carefully, running a finger along the bisected body of the Elemental Cultivator. He scowled. McCarthy walked to the body of the Martial Cultivator ¡ª Greg ¡ª and looked, but did not stoop down as before. He scratched his head, the scowl growing deeper.

    These two were killed by decisive sword blows. The first Cultivator seemed shocked, but the second looked ready. Perhaps they surrounded Da Shan and Olaf betrayed them to collect the reward? The conclusion was the most logical, but also the most unpleasant. He walked to the third corpse, his anger boiling to a steam. If Olaf killed Da Shan I¡¯ll ¡ª McCarthy¡¯s mind screeched to a halt as he lifted the blanket of the third corpse. What the hell is this?!

    He could not comprehend why Olaf was dead on the ground. Before he could come to terms with his discovery the sound of Lee crashing through the bushes interrupted his thoughts. The yellow eyes of his secretary flashing in the darkness. Lee stumbled out of the forest into the clearing and tried to dust himself off after noticing McCarthy¡¯s extremely vexed expression. Before he could finish a wind rippled by tidying him up. Lee, after mumbling something that sounded like a "Thank you", took note of each corpse and spoke the conclusion McCarthy wanted to avoid.

    ¡°He¡¯s been hiding his power.¡±

    McCarthy''s mind flashed back to Da Shan''s second recent visit to his office. He felt his face redden, then he nodded, pulled out a pocket book from his vest pocket, put on his glasses and extended his had to Lee ¡ª asking for a pen. Lee pulled out a pen and inkwell, handing them to McCarthy and then waited. McCarthy jotted some figures down, took a couple glances, put away his glasses, book, and pen while quietly muttering, ¡°I¡¯ll be keeping this.¡± He paced around for a moment. Then spoke quietly.

    ¡°Da Shan is at least Captain Grade¡­ but I don¡¯t understand how.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand how you can conclude that without a Bloodreader.¡± Lee¡¯s face went wide with amazement.

    McCarthy waved off the compliment like one would an annoying fly, ¡°I¡¯m amazing.¡± He replies absently while rubbing his chin.

    ¡°Step back Lee, I don¡¯t like relying on my powers but, I will have to.¡±

    ¡°Chancellor,¡± Lee bowed at a 90-degree angle and strode off into the forest.

    McCarthy took a deep breath. Soon, the wind began to swirl around him aggressively as he wriggled his fingers like a pianist, his voice softly crooned,

    ¡°Balla, amica mea.¡±

    The wind around McCarthy dropped and a gale stormed outward from him ¡ª leaving him undisturbed in the epicenter of the storm ¡ª kicking up leaves, dirt, grass and twigs. Then, an ethereal form materialized in the air, it¡¯s lines both distinct and blurry, it¡¯s face forming a strange sort of smile. The figure was feminine, but impossible to make out ¡ª it was as if it could only be seen in peripheral vision. McCarthy bowed. She bowed back.

    ¡°I will dance with you later tonight my love, but will you show me who danced here?¡±

    A breezy laugh came from the figure. Whispers encompassed McCarthy, bathing him in a symphony of quiet voices, each barely distinguishable from the next and like the sound of the wind in the trees.

    Lee felt drops of sweat sneak down his back, he hated McCarthy¡¯s power¡­ it was so¡­ creepy. McCarthy had explained this ability to him once before.

    ¡°The wind always listens,¡± he said. ¡°Most Wind Cultivators think the wind is an element, they¡¯re stupid! Air is the element and air is everywhere. There is no human activity that escapes the gaze of the wind. None at all. So sometimes, I ask the wind to tell me secrets.¡± At this point McCarthy would always smile, ¡°She¡¯s such a gossip, my Anabelle, such a nosy girl.¡± Lee felt his body shiver, the level of cultivation necessary to make the Element not obey you, but come to life and fall in love with you, it was a realm of power Lee could not comprehend and it was the creepiest thing ever to realize that McCarthy was always watching, everywhere in the world, although ¡ªLee scratched his head in thought, letting his shivers subside ¡ª McCarthy probably didn¡¯t have the time to spy on everyone. But the fact that he could. That was creepy. Lee brought his focus back to McCarthy.

    McCarthy¡¯s face had turned into a scowl again, he grumbled to the wind, ¡°Show me.¡± The wind was being finnicky, but hearing his no-nonsense tone, it stopped. The sound of a sigh went up into the night and the figure vanished. Soon more figures took her place. The wind began recreating the scene from before. Four masculine forms appeared, one laying behind a tree as the other three approached. The wind whispered their dialogue in his ears, McCarthy nodded at every word and phrase while keeping his eyes glued to the ghostly representation of Da Shan. His gaze was normal and steady until the airy Da Shan made his clothes, and killed the Earth Cultivator. He hissed in anger and with a shout the wind stopped mid-performance ¡ª at the part where Da Shan killed Greg. He didn¡¯t need to see Da Shan kill Olaf, he didn¡¯t have time! Da Shan was far more powerful than he thought¡­ and he had solved the mystery of Da Shan''s cultivation. This secret method of Da Shan¡¯s ¡ª to fix his cultivation ¡ª he became an Elemental Cultivator, and cultivated the Metal Element, it explained why he could escape and why the Bloodreaders couldn¡¯t detect his power. But it still made no sense to McCarthy how this worked, but he could worry about it later. He needed to find Da Shan and fast.

    ¡°So where¡¯s Da Shan now do you think?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know, probably ¡ª¡± McCarthy¡¯s face warped into a savage grin and he bounded off.

    ¡°Where are you going?!¡± Lee called out after him, trying to keep up.

    ¡°Someone found Da Shan, one of my¡ª"

    ¡° ¡ª Auditor¡­ I¡¯m an Auditor for the Chancellor, I had no choice. I¡¯m sorry Da Shan¡­ I¡¯m so sorry. But the moment you came here the Chancellor knew I met you¡­ If I don¡¯t capture you¡­ he¡¯ll kill my family¡­ I¡¯m so sorry my friend.¡±

    Ed felt hot tears stream down his face, stinging his wounds. His body was at the end of his rope, so was his mind and so was his heart. Ed was strained. His head hurt from shooting dozens of mind blasts. Sweat poured down his black and blood from a few burst vessels in his head leaked down. He wiped the hot red liquid before it reached his eyes. He swayed. Unsteady on his feet. He felt like crap.

    Hot damn. I am a piece of crap.

    ¡°Da Da¡­ I didn¡¯t want to do this to you¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­ so sorry¡­ but¡­ he¡¯ll kill my family!¡± Ed slunk to the floor because of dizziness, but then forced himself to stand.

    His blood shot eyes fell on his friend¡¯s fallen form. Da Shan frothed at the mouth, his spasms and seizures lessening as time wore on. His eyes had fully rolled back into his head and blood leaked from every orifice, staining his multi-coloured kimono. Ed¡¯s facial expression, though pained, was calloused.

    Where¡¯d he get such a weird outfit? Ed allowed his eyes to wander to the staircase, the cursory glance assuring him that his wife and children were all upstairs as he had ordered. His head jerked suddenly as he heard muttering, he looked at Da Shan¡¯s still twitching form in shock. Da Shan¡¯s tired and broken voice called out.

    ¡°Cor ferro.¡± Da Shan¡¯s body writhed with renewed vigour and he tore at his mouth as if trying to rip out his teeth.

    There¡¯s no way he¡¯s still conscious, I used enough power to take out a team of horses. Hell, I think I used enough power to kill a Captain! Frig, but those spasms are real. The intense episode of activity ceased. Ed¡¯s bloodied hands rubbed his eyes, he looked intently at Da Shan¡¯s form and felt the power of psykosis rampage in his brain. The sticky feel of sweet power sharpening his senses and steadying his feet. Ed mentally formed an invisible and ghostly hammer above Da Shan¡¯s body and readied himself to strike. Hot blood erupted from previously scabbed over wounds and streamed down his face, obscuring his vision.

    Rot! This is what I wanted to avoid.

    He pulled a cloth from his pocket and rubbed his face in the cloth, and then screamed in pain, the cloth flying out of his hands as he collapsed to the ground in agony. He shouted in fury, but almost blacked out from the pain. Something had stabbed into his leg ¡ª shattering his femur. In rage he errantly swung the ethereal hammer, and heard a yelp of pain that brought him great satisfaction. As he dropped to the ground, he saw Da Shan¡¯s lifeless eyes open and staring at him, pure hatred transfixed in his gaze. Ed felt a cold shiver creep down his spine, seeing the foot-long steel blade jutting out of his leg, he winced. Popping a pill in his mouth and then shoving the bloody rag he had used on his face in his mouth, he swallowed and then bit down. Yanking the sword from his leg made him release a muffled scream into the rag. He then sat down beside Da Shan¡¯s corpse, forcing himself to look at the body. His door swayed on its unoiled hinges, the wind tugging it back and forth. Ed let his hand rest on top of his head. He let hot tears fall down his face. Tears turned to sobs. Sobs to gut wrenching cries.

    ¡°My friend! By my own hands¡­ I¡¯m sorry Da Shan. I¡¯m sorry!¡± His mournful cries pierced the night, ¡°Forgive me, but I had to do it, for my family!¡± He could not be consoled, he wept deeply for the blood on his hands. He cried to the point of exhaustion. Then Ed lay his tired and battered body down on the floor and locked eyes with his friend.

    ¡°Forgive me,¡± he whispered the words quietly, as if he was afraid to ask. Ed¡¯s eyes couldn¡¯t bear to keep contact with Da Shan¡¯s, they fell to the floor staring at the woodwork. He noticed a couple teeth on the floor, probably from when Da Shan had attacked his jaw in that wild spasmatic frenzy that had led to... this. Eh? These teeth are hollow? Oh damn, I¡¯m ¡ª

    ¡°Liquesce.¡±

    Ed¡¯s world went black.

 Chapter 11: The Clock Will Strike, But Who Will Come?

    Ed¡¯s body lay still, his unconscious form unmoving. Da Shan nursed his bleeding and pained hand, all the bones in his hand were broken. He had punched Ed with all his might, because he feared he didn¡¯t have much might left. Blood shot eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, his throat sore and in pain. His head was pounding, and his body ached. Da Shan was in pain, great pain. His eyes snapped to attention and they burned with a fierce intensity. He sat up slowly, nursing his shattered hand. Trying to avoid the dizziness. His eyes were unfocused and his world was spinning. He reached into his mouth and bit back a scream as he ripped out a tooth. He tipped the tooth back ¡ª sucking a pill from the hollowed out interior ¡ª and pulled strips of cloth from a storage pocket. He jammed the cloth in his mouth, trying to stem the blood gushing from his missing teeth. Soon the blood stopped and he let a toothy grin flash across his face.

    ¡°Most damn cultivators are too stupid to leave things outside their storage pockets, heh. Or too weak to handle the pain. No one checks anything other than the bag... I don''t need my kimono McCarthy! I don''t need it!¡± Da Shan groaned and leaned back, ¡°External monologue isn¡¯t really my style, hehe¡­¡± Da Shan looked at the wall, gritted his teeth and slammed his broken hand into the wall. His yelp of pain shook the house and the force of his fist splintered bone ¡ª forcing it to break through his skin. Blood poured from his wounds again.

    ¡°Ferr ¡ª AHHH!¡± Da Shan gripped his head and screamed, he couldn¡¯t access his elemental power. His mind was too broken. Almost blacking out from the backlash he steadied his mind by thumping the wall again ¡ª breaking more bones. He gasped and panted from the exertion and the hurt, sweat poured from his body, drenching his clothes. The salt and iron mingling in the red liquid that soaked his body. He was feeling feverish in both mind and body.

    Mental attacks are the worst¡­ Damn Psykers. He looked at Ed, a man he once trusted with his life. Dammit Ed¡­ when I get the chance, I swear I will exterminate you and your entire family. Mark my words¡­ you traitor. I don¡¯t know why you betrayed me, but I¡¯ll be damned before I let you off. Da Shan felt his mind slowly piece itself back together, the two pills he had swallowed earlier finally making a noticeable difference. The third pill he just took was also starting to slow the flow of blood. He grinned with his mangled and bloodied mouth. Hell, I¡¯m still alive. Joseph¡­ If I make it through tonight, I will put you in my lap and belt the crap out of your colon ¡ª just like when you were my student¡­ just you wait scumbag. Frig, my head is spinning. What am I saying?

    Da Shan shut his eyes for five minutes, waiting for the pills to heal his wounds. He opened his eyes and stood up with a groan.

    ¡°A good pill isn¡¯t a substitute for ¡®Doctor Time¡¯.¡± Da Shan looked around, deep in thought, well what thought he could muster. His face froze ¡ª gripped by fear. He then jolted into motion, one thought shocking him into action. I feel it, McCarthy is coming.

    Da Shan bolted from the house, not bothering to grab his sword or exact his revenge. He would get payback for this treachery later and get the debt paid in blood. Da Shan shouted, summoning his cloud of iron through his skin and faltered as the iron tore through the pores of his flesh to enter the atmosphere, his head pounded with pain ¡ª the recent mental wounds threatening to burst ¡ª but he had no choice. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he ordered the metal to enshroud his legs and battered hand, then sped off as fast as possible. Moments after he was swallowed by the darkness.

    Soon, a man in a three-piece pinstriped suit arrived at the door. McCarthy¡¯s eyes took in the destruction, the unconscious Ed, the blood, the teeth and the sword. His eyes lit up on the sword. He pounced on it and held it in his hands. His eyes were forlorn as he touched the sword, tracing his finger along the blade. Where did you hide this Da Shan? ¡­So, you had May¡¯s sword this whole time? His eyes focused. He stowed the sword, shakily. Then concentrated.

    ¡°Balla, amica mea.¡±

    The wind surged around him once more, he the eye of the storm where all was calm, the flirty wind his hurricane. The wind manifested, but the enchanting gaze of the formless woman had no effect on him this time.

    ¡°Show me now!¡± He snapped.

    The windy matron wore a look of displeasure and annoyance. Her ethereal body language the perfect image of a silent protest. McCarthy stepped quickly and reached with his hand and grabbed her by the throat and pulled her face to his. Her eyes widening with shock.

    ¡°Show me now or I will kill you.¡±

    The wind vanished from his grip and billowed out shakily, the caressing whispers and gentle words abandoned. The scene unfolded before his eyes, the psychic assault, Da Shan¡¯s lifeless form, his form reanimated and his flight. But the back of McCarthy¡¯s mind itched. Something wasn¡¯t adding up. Seeing how Da Shan hid his strength, bided his time ¡ª for hundreds of years ¡ª and was only revealing it now, showed McCarthy two things. One, Da Shan knew how he would react when he revealed the truth about his life expectancy. Two, Da Shan had planned for his reaction¡­ for a long time. He had planned to antagonize him. It would be impossible for this to all be an afterthought, just a whim that Da Shan decided to do before enacting some other plan, this was his grand plan. Anything else was foolish! Totally impossible. Certainly not a casual thing. Here was where the math led McCarthy to a strange place, Da Shan¡¯s plan, therefore, wouldn¡¯t be to just run away. He knew McCarthy would catch him eventually¡­ so what was his plan? What was Da Shan planning to do tonight? Ed seemed to know something¡­ Da Shan had come here for a reason. McCarthy looked down at the motionless form of Ed, in the corner of his eye he saw Ed¡¯s wife peeking down from the top of the stairs. Excellent. A plan hatched in McCarthy¡¯s mind as he eyed the tired housewife.

    ¡°He¡¯s not dead.¡±

    Her shoulders sagged visibly with relief and tears welled in her hazel eyes and the lines in her black skin seemed to lighten.

    ¡°Not yet.¡±

    She froze and nearly fell down the stairs with shock, stumbling a couple steps down, ¡°Chancellor, please save him! Ed has been a good Auditor, he¡¯s worked for you for a long time and he works hard.¡± Her eyes shimmered with tears and her face was full of grief, beautiful in its pain. But McCarthy¡¯s heart was like steel.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°You seem to have misunderstood, his life is in no danger now. But it¡¯s about to be,¡± McCarthy drew a long switchblade from his suit jacket pocket and flicked it open. ¡°Normally I would ask Ed, but he might lie to me or trick me¡­ Psykers tend to be a little smarter than the average cultivator, you can never be too careful.¡±

    ¡°Chancellor please.¡±

    ¡°You know Edna, there¡¯s one thing I¡¯ve learned in my long life.¡±

    "Chancellor no... don''t..."

    "Edna please, listen."

    She waited with a patient expression, an expression wreathed in sorrow and extreme fear.

    ¡°Love makes someone weak.¡± McCarthy bent down, pulled a pill bottle from his pocket and shoved a pill in Ed¡¯s mouth. McCarthy locked eyes with Ed¡¯s wife and put his knife to Ed¡¯s wrist. Her eyes went wide with horror, she shook her head furiously from side to side and whispered, ¡°No, no, please no.¡±

    Her whispers turned to frantic screams as McCarthy started sawing off Ed¡¯s hand slowly, leisurely, taking his time. Tears poured down her face as she screamed and shouted at the top of her lungs. Ed woke up at the first shout, the whites of his eyes wider than ever. He occasionally twitched, but it was like he was pinned down by invisible arms. His face contorted in pain and tears slid down his face, but he was unable to move. Unable to scream. His eyes bulged wih a silent screech of pain. Edna couldn''t watch the gory scene, she turned away, tried to close her eyes, McCarthy shouted.

    ¡°LOOK AT HIM!¡±

    Edna violently shook her head from side to side. McCarthy stopped what he was doing and lunged ¡ª grabbing her by the hair. He dragged her kicking and screaming to where he had been cutting Ed¡¯s hand. He forced her face down, shoving her beautiful face into the blood and yelled.

    "WATCH! Or I¡¯ll cut off the other one.¡±

    Edna¡¯s eyes opened and looked to her husband¡¯s face, gut wrenching hurt shattered her will to resist and her sobbing became quiet and spasmatic. McCarthy stared at her ¡ª locking eyes ¡ª and continued cutting. She hiccupped tears and choked on air, gasping for breath. When he was done the bloody deed, she was shivering, but unable to move. McCarthy wiped his knife, casually, and called out.

    ¡°Lee.¡±

    The spindly man opened the door with rickety creak, his yellow eyes appearing wolfish in the firelight. He bowed his head and responded, ¡°Chancellor, you called?¡±

    ¡°Put this hand in a jar, I want it preserved.¡±

    Lee nodded and produced a jar from his pocket, his hands trembling slightly as he handed it to the Chancellor. McCarthy stopped and looked at Lee and snorted, ¡°Buck up, you¡¯ve done worse.¡±

    Lee nodded but then whispered, ¡°I just imagined myself in Ed¡¯s shoes.¡±

    McCarthy was either too engrossed in the hand ¡ª or didn¡¯t care enough ¡ª to respond. McCarthy sealed the jar and stored it away, he produced two pill bottles from his jacket pocket and set them down in the rapidly forming pool of blood near Ed¡¯s stump.

    ¡°It¡¯s very simple Edna,¡± McCarthy pulled out his glasses and pulled another pill bottle from his pocket, and stared at the label with a stern expression. His face was hard, but his voice was casual ¡ª as if he was discussing his grocery list for next week. ¡°You tell me where Da Shan is, I give Ed this first bottle on the ground ¡ª the one that will stop the bleeding. You tell me both where he is and what his plan is, I¡¯ll give you the pill to make Ed unparalysed. If you give me anything extra¡­ I¡¯ll give you Ed¡¯s hand back¡­ eventually. Fail me and¡­ Ed¡­ will swallow this third pill. It will make his psykosis melt in his brain, his death will be slow, painful and you¡¯ll have to watch ¡ª I will make sure his paralysis is gone so you can enjoy a full show.¡± He cleared his throat and looked at her with an impassive expression, but his eyes were burning with fanatical flames, ¡°So tell me Edna, what will it be?¡±

    Edna whimpered, opening and closing her mouth but no words would come out.

    ¡°Edna, my time is precious, if you please.¡±

    ¡°Da Shan¡­ he¡­ he¡¯s¡­¡± Her voice trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

    ¡°Please, go on.¡±

    Edna trembled like a leaf, McCarthy waited and then gestured to Lee, ¡°Is my secretary scaring you? I can have him walk out and we can be all alone ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Da Shan has a secret room under the rope bridge, he and Ed went there yesterday,¡± her words gushed out and with a steely eyed gaze from McCarthy, she continued ¡ª hesitantly ¡ª and then gaining momentum. ¡°Da Shan took Ed there last night; his plan was to remake his body¡­ he said that he had reached the maximum potential of his body. Da Shan found some sort of tome, a book¡­ I don¡¯t know ¡ª he¡¯s been following the method in the book, he ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Where did he get the book?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Think harder.¡±

    ¡°His name was Elder¡­ Elder... Elder Quan!¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s face flinched, but then he motioned for her to continue, Edna resumed, ¡°He was going to remake his body¡­ to¡­ to become the body of a prodigy¡­ But if he doesn¡¯t do it by tonight, he will die.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s eyes narrowed, he¡¯d never heard of such a ridiculous cultivation method. Anatomical and Elemental Cultivation methods tended to clash, the body wasn¡¯t designed to handle such opposing types of energy. These in a sense were the two extremes of energy. Elemental Cultivation used energy from outside the body whereas Anatomical Cultivation used the energy within the body. Eventually, the body adapts to the energy types, to use different types simultaneously would shred the body. McCarthy paused and thought a bit more. Possibly, in the final moment of the body¡¯s destruction you could remake the body. But, you¡¯d have to use a third energy to remake the body while the other two are destroying it, perhaps psychosis. His eyes fell on Ed. Or you use vigour to shape your organs¡­ but you¡¯d literally have to drink medicinal pills by the buckets. Hmmm, but both methods would fail, because, to reshape potential would entail changing your longevity¡­ meaning¡­ disconnecting and reconnecting the soul. But then you¡¯d die. So, the method would fail every time¡­ it¡¯s impossible unless you die and come back, but this has never happened before. But even if you did, you''d have no control over the aptitude of the new body¡­ This is just¡­ stupid. McCarthy looked at Edna, who was sweating and trembling.

    ¡°Are you sure of this?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ yes!¡±

    ¡°Positive?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t lie¡­ Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have time to cross examine your testimony with Ed¡¯s¡­ so I¡¯ll simply put it bluntly. If I find out you lied to me, I will cut off Ed¡¯s other hand and hang him from the front of the gate by his stubs. Then, I will draw and quarter your twelve children while you watch. After that I will blind you, so that the last thing your eyes will ever see is the misery of your family. Then, while Ed hangs from the wall I will draw and quarter you in front of him. Then, I will blind him. Paralyze him and sustain him with pills so that he can contemplate what his eyes have seen for hundreds of years. Do you understand?¡±

    Edna went pale like a ghost, her quivering gradually became a nod, McCarthy smiled and sped off. Edna locked eyes with McCarthy¡¯s secretary. But Lee merely inclined his head to her, took the third pill bottle and then left as quickly as he came. After they had left she released a long breath that she didn¡¯t even realize she was holding, she then quickly fed the pills to Ed and waited, waited for him to get better, prayed ¡ª prayed to the God of the Green Hills ¡ª to help her husband and she hoped, hoped the Chancellor would never return and wished her children would not walk down the stairs. But not every wish is granted, little footsteps pitter-pattered down the stares while she ¡ª lost in thought ¡ª stared at Ed¡¯s body. Her stare was broken when she heard a soft voice.

    ¡°Mommy?¡±

    And her heart was broken when that soft voice turned into a shrill scream.

 Chapter 12: That Time May Cease and Midnight Never Come

    Da Shan tumbled through the forest at breakneck speed, his eyes wild and his movements erratic. He stumbled over every root, hit every branch and charged through every bush. Keeping his iron active gave him a pounding migraine, but the iron wrapped around his busted hand helped him ignore the bones jutting from his hand.

    I will not die! Life is the most important metric¡­ without life¡­ without life.

    Da Shan didn¡¯t know if he believed in the Green Hills, he didn¡¯t know if he believed in anything beyond the Infinite Black¡­ the nothingness that all cultivators feared would come and claim them on their quest for immortality. He still remembered a time hundreds of years ago, he and McCarthy had wiped out pacified a bizarre sect. They had these strange pills that they took in their religious ceremonies. Da Shan, being a curious soul ate one of these pills. In the midst of siezures, frothings and convulsions he had seen the fabled Infinite Black and it frightened him, it frightened him deeply. So he doubly burned the sect.

    I will not die!

    His legs pumped rapidly and he tore through the forest with abandon, ignoring the pain he felt and the weariness that oppressed him. Every step was like running under water, ever breath like a that of a drowning man and his body ached like it was on fire.

    If I stop I will die¡­ I will not fall¡­ I will not die!

    I will not die!

    I will not die!

    He chanted this mantra in his mind over and over, it was his only source of strength, his only source of hope. Life for the sake of life, nothing could be more illogical, but nothing could be as powerful. So primal. So basic. So instinctual. And so he ran, beyond what his legs could run, he thought with a mind incapable of thinking and he charged in a direction he was unsure of. Each second was as an hour to him. But, his persistence was rewarded. He saw the rope bridge in the distance. His heart lifted and he managed to squeeze a bit more juice out of his legs and ran even faster. He was so close, he could hear the babbling brook. His eyes could see the threads on the ropes. The dingy bridge. His foot stepped on the wood. He leapt down. But his heart felt like it was about to explode in his chest.

    Eh? Why aren¡¯t I falling?

    Why can¡¯t I fall?

    An upward blowing wind was preventing him from slipping into the hole. The warm upward draft brought him anything but comfort.

    What is this?

    ¡°Ed must have broken your mind old friend, you still don¡¯t recognize my power.¡±

    Da Shan tried to turn around, but found he couldn¡¯t scoop the wind in his hands to turn his body. The wind danced and evaded around his body, as if there was no wind, wherever he swiped there was a vacuum, preventing him from gaining traction.

    ¡°Come now, turn around and let me see your face.¡±

    Da Shan¡¯s throat burned, his lips were cracked, his only source of hydration the blood staining his clothes. He tried to speak, but the crusted blood from his cracked lips had glued his mouth shut.

    ¡°Sorry, I forgot, sometimes I¡¯m too powerful for my own good.¡± With a wry grin McCarthy snapped his fingers and the wind pushed Da Shan round, his wild eyes looked McCarthy in the face. McCarthy¡¯s wry grin became a small chortle as he laughed, ¡°You look like crap.¡±

    Da Shan squeezed out a scratchy voice as he tore his scabbed lips open, ¡°You look like what you are.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and what¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°A dick.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Da Shan stared defiantly at his friend. McCarthy¡¯s face contorted into a frown, he lightly tugged on his jacket before saying, ¡°Of all the comments that would make me speechless¡­ you got me there.¡±

    ¡°You still have much to learn.¡±

    ¡°Shut up old man, let¡¯s drop this charade. You lost, I won, now come. It¡¯s not yet midnight and I have a cryo-stasis tube waiting for you.¡±

    ¡°Joseph, I will not be put in cryo!¡±

    ¡°Ha! So you¡¯d rather kill yourself with this insane cultivation method?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t die I¡¯ve ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Save it Da Shan. I imagine you either have a ton of blood clotting pills or a third energy source, but neither can fix your problem. Friend, just sleep for awhile, when you wake up all ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have the right to take ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I HAVE EVERY RIGHT!¡±

    The shout knocked Da Shan back, the upward draft vanishing from beneath him. As he flew back he tumbled down the rope bridge and on top of Ed¡¯s psychic barrier. Da Shan¡¯s eyes glinted and with a flash of steel the barrier collapsed, and he slid down landing on his broken hand with a scream. He floundered in the dark as the water poured down the hole, submerging him in liquid. He tried to swim but was too weak. McCarthy calmly observed Da Shan¡¯s floundering before parting the water and gently floating down into the streambed and then down the hole. He grabbed Da Shan by the scruff of his neck and summoned a wind to funnel the fallen water back up into the stream. With a wave of his hand a steady current of wind prevented anymore water from falling down the hole. He waved again and the stone door concealing Da Shan¡¯s room was blown back by a fierce gale ¡ª tumbling into the room and shattering the shelves. He stepped in and casually tossed Da Shan into the room. Da Shan drained of energy, laid on the cold stone floor mumbling to himself. McCarthy¡¯s eyes spotted the old raggedy tome it was in the center of the room, on a pedastal, like some holy text. He snorted to himself and walked up to it, his eyes traced the cover: Tome of Rebirth and Rejuvenation: How to Be a New You After 200 Years! He laughed in derision and opened it. He read the tome while Da Shan pulled himself to the center of the room with his free hand.

    ¡°Hmmm, I was wondering why you needed to return here for this plan¡­ so you need to do this on a solstice¡­ provided you began on a solstice¡­ and you must do the procedure in the exact same place you summoned your element ¡ª which presumably was here.¡± McCarthy looked up, noting Da Shan¡¯s dishevelled form moving across the floor to the center of the room. He casually strode to the center of the room and with a kick sent Da Shan back towards the doorway. He pulled out his glasses. Put them on. And continued reading the tome.

    Da Shan groaned in pain and his mind screamed. I will not die! I will not die! I will not die! Dammit! I won¡¯t be frozen¡­ I will not be frozen. He looked up, his heart was in pain seeing McCarthy read his treasured volume. He gasped out some words in a pained voice, ¡°Putting me in stasis will kill me!¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°It might kill you¡­ but it probably won¡¯t. It has a higher chance of succeeding than¡­ this.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my life¡¯s work!¡±

    McCarthy closed the book and levelled his gaze at Da Shan, ¡°I¡¯ve come to believe that you¡¯ve gone senile.¡±

    ¡°No¡­ no¡­ Joseph¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Da Shan¡­ I have some pills that will sedate you.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this to me¡­ I am a human¡­ You can¡¯t just freeze me¡­ I have a choice!¡±

    ¡°Da Shan¡­ the insane cannot make a choice and I think you¡¯re insane.¡± A worried expression wrinkled McCarthy¡¯s face as he regarded Da Shan with a look of pity. "It happens sometimes, if we wait too long before a breakthrough, Alzheimer''s can occur. It''s not unheard off... it would explain a lot..."

    ¡°This is so¡­ wrong¡­¡± Da Shan felt tears spring to his eyes, he clutched his chest in pain and hissed to McCarthy, ¡°Joseph, what have you become? I thought we weren¡¯t going be a devil sect?¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s voice went quiet and dangerous, ¡°You dare accuse me of being a devil sect and I will gut you like a pig.¡±

    ¡°Yes! Threats of murder! Oh that definitely proves your righteousness, please go on! Tell me more about how not-devilish you are Joseph!¡±

    ¡°Careful old friend¡­¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t be Joseph! I won¡¯t be! You¡¯re no better than the witches who killed Katherine and May you¡¯re just as ¡ª¡±

    McCarthy kicked Da Shan¡¯s head, with a yelp Da Shan felt his neck creak and groan in a way that it was never meant to. He couldn¡¯t feel his legs at all.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare mention them to me, you filthy animal. Let me tell you something Da Shan.¡± McCarthy turned his back to Da Shan and faced the piles of books, papers and pills ¡ª kicking at an errant pill bottle he began, ¡°All that has meaning in the world is power! Do the weak have rights? Perhaps, but if you can¡¯t protect them, they might as well not exist. Power gives meaning. I make meaning with my power. There is nothing but power! With power I will avenge May! And with power I will make the world as I want it! I¡¯ll do it all and when you awake from your sleep, you can thank me for it.¡± His eyes turned to regard the broken and battered form of his father-in-law, he stepped toward him. Got down on one knee, lifted Da Shan¡¯s chin and stared him straight in the eye. McCarthy¡¯s blue eyes burned with an all-consuming fire, a shining blue flame in the night. His voice dropped to a whisper, ¡°You will thank me for it.¡±

    ¡°No¡­ please¡­ my son¡­ don¡¯t talk like this¡­ can¡¯t we discuss this like reasonable men?¡±

    ¡°Da Shan, reason is for the sane.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not insane!¡±

    ¡°Anyone who disagrees with me is insane.¡±

    ¡°How¡­ How can you say that with a straight face?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°McCarthy¡­ what happened to you?¡±

    ¡°What happened to me? What happened to ¡ª

    ¡°Ferrum veni!¡± With a weak shout the cloud of iron swarmed from Da Shan¡¯s broken hand and pummeled McCarthy in the face. McCarthy stepped back with a laugh and casually blew the cloud away.

    Bang!

    With a crack and a puff of smoke a gunshot went off in the cold room, the sound echoed for a brief moment, but when the smoke cleared the smell of blood and sulfur hung in the air. McCarthy¡¯s eyes were wide and a stream of blood trickled from his forehead, shock was smattered across his face. He swayed unsteadily.

    ¡°Where did you get that?¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice croaked as he slunk to his knees.

    ¡°Not telling.¡±

    McCarthy swayed on his knees, about to fall over.

    Da Shan continued, ¡°I know this won¡¯t kill you old friend¡­ but consider us no longer connected. I will walk my path. You walk yours. If they ever intersect, I will kill you.¡±

    ¡°Ha. Good one.¡± McCarthy tumbled to the ground on his face and lay in a slowly forming pool of blood.

    Da Shan felt a wind beginning to form, he clenched his jaw and using one arm dragged himself forward to the center of the room. He looked back. The wind had turned McCarthy¡¯s body over ¡ªsuspending it in the air ¡ª and the blood floated from the ground and began to flow back into his body. A small lump of metal rolled out from his skull. Da Shan reached the center of the room, his arm burning in pain. He forcibly dragged himself into a sitting position, using both his good hand and broken hand to prop himself up. He didn''t have a lot of time.

    Damn, I think my legs are paralyzed.

    Da Shan ripped a few more teeth from his mouth, his screams rather muted ¡ª he was getting used to this ¡ª and tossed the three pills in his mouth and waited. His eyes wandered to McCarthy¡¯s body, the blood had ¡ª as if guided by a sentient hand ¡ª entered McCarthy¡¯s head again. He felt his heartbeat quicken.

    Faster! Faster!

    A few seconds passed then Da Shan felt the vigour, the iron and some strange force swirling in his body. The atmospheric energy¡­ thank you solstice! The third pill he took had started dulling the pain, his reaction time had slowed down. He raised a hand staring at it ¡ª it seemed to be detached from his body. Man¡­ no wonder people get addicted to these pills. The book told him that it was necessary to stay awake for the process, but the pain would be so great that it would make him black out. According to his research, a few very illegal drugs were recommended to remedy the situation. Da Shan¡¯s heart was filled with gratitude towards the black-market channels that brought him the drugs. Thank you Tiny Tim for all you do! He breathed deeply and smelled victory, he had beat McCarthy. Dilapidated feelings of gratitude began springing up in his chest.

    Thank you so much Paul for giving Greg the gun. When I come back I will find a way to pay you back¡­ Greg¡­ My opinion of you has risen, consider that all the thanks you get. Thanks Ed for nothing! Thanks to Joseph for being¡­ ugh¡­ for being¡­ being¡­

    His mind was getting muddled. But he could still feel the elemental energy and the vigour rampaging through his body ¡ª directed by the mysterious atmospheric energy (an energy Wizards referred to as Mana). He looked down and his blurry mind sharpened into focus. Blood oozing from the pores of his body at an alarming rate and then cursed himself in his mind. It was too late, the process had begun, he couldn''t move untill it was complete.

    Crap! Crap! Dammit! Dammit! All pricking hell! I didn¡¯t grab any blood clotting pills!

    Da Shan¡¯s eyes went wide and frantic at the large quantities of blood leaking out of his body as his skin seemed to shrivel and peel off ¡ª exposing the muscle underneath. His flesh wriggled and pulsed as if some creature was swimming under his skin. But the pain was far and distant, his mind slow and dull. He wanted to drag himself off to grab pills, but he couldn¡¯t move. He wanted to scream and cry out. But his voice was someone else¡¯s. Not in his control.

    It¡¯s okay¡­ it might not kill me¡­ it might not! Stay positive. I am a seed! Grow Da Shan cultivate like a garden and ¡ª eh? What¡¯s this!

    Da Shan¡¯s alarm grew even more, the atmospheric energy was leaving his body, floated out of his exposed skin and faded into the air. Unable to handle the rampaging vigour and steel his arm with the broken hand exploded in a sea of blood and bone. With no atmospheric energy to direct its formation, it collapsed in a sea of hurt ¡ª the destruction rippling up his arm to his torso. Soon there was no arm left, only pain. Waves of pain cascaded his body and pricked the edge of his consciousness. But nothing could startle him out of his stupor, even though the stump that was his shoulder gushed blood. His inebriated mind whirred.

    Frig! Don¡¯t tell me I didn¡¯t start cultivating this on the solstice?! PRICK ME! FRIGGIN¡¯ UNIVERSE! YOU¡¯RE DETERMINED TO KILL ME! No Da Shan¡­ think positive. Positive! Tiddly-do and tiddly dum! Tweedle dee and tweedled dum! Jub jub birds and broom trees! I feel great! Hehehe! I will live! I will ¡ª eh? Who¡¯s that? Why are his eyes yellow¡­ Rather skinny fellow. He looks mad¡­ Oh! He¡¯s coming this way. Hullo sir ¡ª

    Da Shan¡¯s drug induced mind was unable to process the incoming danger. He saw the throbbing veins in Lee¡¯s forehead. He saw the sadistic and wolfish grin. He saw the sharpened fingernails and the snarling face. He felt the rush of air as Lee swiped with his clawed hand. He felt the confusion as his eyes saw his own body upside down. He felt his thoughts slow. He saw the encroaching black. An inexplicable sadness clouded his cheerful mind.

    Why is it getting dark? My eyes are still open! Hullo! Hullo! Oh¡­ everything is spinning and shrinking¡­ spinning and shrinking.

    Da Shan¡¯s head rolled across the floor, stopping a few feet from his body next to where the tome lay open on the ground. The book was flat on its back, open to the last page of the volume. Its tattered pages stained with blood and its brown leather spine dyed black by the red fluid. His eyes moved ¡ª instinctually and perhaps in defiance ¡ª to the last line on the page before the absent appendix. The last words he saw before all was black. The last thing in his mind. The last thing his eyes would ever see.

    Insipiens! Tu quod seminas non vivificatur nisi prius moriatur.

    He never understood that line.

    Ah, I don¡¯t understand that line.

    I don¡¯t understand¡­

    I don¡¯t¡­

    I¡­

    I¡­

    I¡­

    ¡­

    Da Shan''s head watched the blood spurting from his body.

    The blood stopped gushing.

    His eyes closed.

    Da Shan died.

 Chapter 13: Fair Natureâ€™s Eye

    When Da Shan died all the energy gathering in his body exploded in a pillar of light that pierced the ceiling of the room, his mangled form collapsingin the center of the cold stone room ¡ª one arm short and a middle finger shorter ¡ª as water poured in through the ceiling, washing the blood away. Lee grinned wickedly and licked his fingernails clean with a long thick, snakelike tongue. A strange and cunning expression flitted across his face. His yellow eyes burned like firey embers in the night, but when a soft wind flitted down his back it sent shivers up his spine and his eyes dulled.

    McCarthy slowly rose to his feet ¡ª the wind dancing around him with concern ¡ª as he stood the flowing water abated, suspended in the air, like leaves caught in an updraft. His eyes a glowing blue. McCarthy stood. Straightened his back. Waved his hand and sent the water back up the hole, strong winds whipping up and catching rocks, slowly patching up the shattered ceiling with his powers. He levelled a cold hard gaze to Lee, who shrunk back in confusion, the cunning expression hidden behind fearful eyes.

    ¡°Get up there.¡± His voice sharp like a drawn blade.

    ¡°Chancellor, what do you mean?¡± Before the puzzled expression could emerge on his face Lee was flung into the ceiling by a violent current of air, yelping as he crashed into the roof. The impact nearly broke the newly mended ceiling ¡ª held together by powerful currents of wind.

    ¡°Chancellor, what have I done?!¡± A panicked expression took over Lee¡¯s face and his skin went pale like a ghost, his yellow eyes making an eerie contrast in the dim light. His voice shaking like a leaf. His eyes darted about with wild confusion as he stood on a solid wall of air below the ceiling.

    ¡°Do you think if I wanted him dead, I would have left him alive?¡± McCarthy''s voice was cold and ruthless.

    ¡°Chancellor I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Be still.¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice rippled out like the pounding of a subwoofer, his eyes stopped glowing and the wind holding up the rocks fell, and rocks crashed into Lee who was suspended in mid-air by a floor of solid air. Blood and teeth showered from above as the secretary screamed, letting stones fall to the floor and water pour back in.

    ¡°HOLD IT UP!¡±

    Lee straightened his back against the force of water and stone, slowly standing and managing to stem the flow of the stream. His legs shaking under the immense weight of nearly a tonne of rock. McCarthy regarded him coolly, then spoke softly.

    ¡°For your sake, he better be alive.¡±

    Lee huffed out, ¡°How could he possibly be alive?¡±

    ¡°How could he possibly kill three deacons? How did he survive Ed¡¯s attack? How could he possibly knock me unconscious? How could he possibly have hidden this from my eyes? How could he have survived this long? How could this method work? How? How? How?! HOW! HOW! HOW!¡±

    Lee shrank back, while holding the ceiling up.

    ¡°HOW?! ¡­LEE you tell me ¡®how¡¯. Come here and tell me ¡®how¡¯ dammit!¡±

    ¡°Chancellor, I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up Lee. If he¡¯s dead. If you killed my father!¡± McCarthy clenched his knuckles so hard, blood leaked out of his palms, his eyes aflame with fury, ¡°By the Light Untold, you better be afraid. Be pricking afraid Lee...¡±

    If Lee could tremble any more, he would have. He felt a deep fear settle in the pit of his stomach. He remembered the hand in a jar¡­ where the Chancellor kept the witches¡­ that dark room¡­ that dark dark room. He wanted to die.

    McCarthy strode to Da Shan¡¯s body. He knelt down, his hands touched the blood-stained kimono. With a wave of his hand a warm breeze ran across Da Shan¡¯s lifeless form and all the blood and water was removed. McCarthy bent his head to Da Shan¡¯s headless chest. His eyes sparked with an insane hope, a crazy hope, but not an impossible hope. Cultivators were a very mysterious group, you could never judge a circumstance by its outward appearance. Perhaps he had a lost art that would regenerate his head, or maybe this was a grand illusion he had trapped them in, or maybe he¡­ McCarthy¡¯s ear heard no sound, the dancing wind went in and out of Da Shan¡¯s body and found no trace nor movement of life. Maybe he was¡­ No! It can¡¯t be! I won¡¯t let you fool me old friend! McCarthy ran to Da Shan¡¯s head and stared in his eyes, searching for any sign of life. But those cold eyes motionlessly stared back at him, unblinking, unmoving ¡ª lifeless.

    ¡°Hehehe! I figured it out, you¡¯re too simple Da Shan!¡± The Chancellor nearly skipped over to the corpse with Da Shan¡¯s head in hand, with a flourish he stuck the head onto the corpse, stood back with a grin and waited.

    Lee¡¯s mind was trembling with fright. He¡¯s gone insane, his rational mind is being overwhelmed¡­ it¡¯s another episode. Light Untold no¡­ prick me.

    ¡°Da Shan why aren¡¯t you getting up? Oh! I forgot,¡± McCarthy pulled out an ornate tube from his pocket and with a snap of his fingers lit the tube ¡ª which shot out a jet of blue flame. Bending down he burned Da Shan¡¯s head back onto his body, sending wind into Da Shan¡¯s dead cells, forcibly moving them together and searing the head back to the body. The smell of singed hair and flesh filled the air and the scent almost made Lee choke. McCarthy stepped back and gazed at Da Shan like a mad scientist beholding his freakish creation. He waited. The clock ticked by and Da Shan didn¡¯t move. McCarthy grew impatient.

    ¡°Move.¡±

    No response.

    ¡°Quit playing games old man¡­ you promised you¡¯d help me take revenge!¡±

    No response.

    ¡°Da Shan¡­ don¡¯t be coy¡­ you promised¡­ you promised¡­¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice almost cracked at the end. He waited more and then with a roar charged Da Shan¡¯s body and kicked it forcefully, breaking some of the corpse¡¯s ribs. With a crack and a dull thud, the body lifelessly bounced like a ragdoll. After tumbling and rolling, the body stopped moving and flopped like a dead fish.

    ¡°NO!¡± With a cry of rage McCarthy wound up like a soccer star and booted Da Shan¡¯s precious tome into the wall, the book ricocheted off the wall and ceiling ¡ª nearly hitting him in the head. With lightning quick reflexes he caught the book in his hand before it smashed into his face. He scowled at the book and his eyes widened when he noticed that the book had taken no damage. He stared at the book then at the body, he looked around the room at all the papers scattered about. He paused, then came to a decision. With a snap of his fingers every paper, book and pill levitated in the room and floated to McCarthy. He looked at Da Shan¡¯s body and it too hovered in the air, suspended as if on a platform. He looked at the book in his hand, spared a glance at Lee and marched out of the room, all the items following behind him. Lee¡¯s shoulders visibly relaxed and just as he was about to put the stones down McCarthy¡¯s voice drifted to him from outside the room.

    ¡°Organize these papers and books in the drafting room for me, then help yourself to a Full Moon mission. If you come back, bring the reward to me. If you die, consider this my mercy. I¡¯ve taken into account your years of service and have decided to give you a chance to make amends.¡±

    Lee, with some gratitude in his eyes, replied, ¡°Chancellor, consider it done.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s silence followed. Lee waited. Slowly, he was lowered to the ground and a flirtatious wind flitted about him cleaning him up. The ceiling now being held up by McCarthy¡¯s power, the immediate fear of death gone, a small smirk dashed across the secretary''s face. Lee straightened his outfit and dashed off, chasing after the wind that carried the materials from the room.

    When they arrived back to the Pentagon, McCarthy directed the wind into the drafting room ¡ª a few doors down from his office ¡ª and took Da Shan¡¯s floating body to the Anatomical Department. As he walked down the halls he heard the sharp chimes of the sect clock tower, each bell shuddering his very soul. McCarthy was disturbed. It was midnight. Tonight was a strange night. After marching down a few stairs and meandering through a couple corridors he found himself in front of a very special dorm room. It was the room of the Department Head of Anatomical Cultivation, Lord Elderweiss. A boney man and a rather frightening man, all the Department Heads had a depth of cultivation that rivalled the Sages on his council, but this man¡¯s cultivation was exceptionally deep. McCarthy got a sense of unfathomability whenever he tried to get a read on Lord Elderweiss¡¯ power, it unnerved him. But, he still felt like he had the upper hand, he himself was concealing a few terrible secrets of his own ¡ª what could a puny Department Head do, compared to him, the Chancellor of the entire sect? That and he and Elderweiss had a special... relationship. He stared at the black gnarled wooden door, then, suddenly grabbed the golden door knocker and pounded wildly for a few seconds. Then stepped back and waited.

    No answer.

    He stepped forward and knocked furiously, then stepped back.

    No answer.

    McCarthy felt the veins in his temples throb, he knocked again, beating the door so hard splinters started popping off and the gold knocker started getting dents. He stepped back.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    No answer.

    Prick me! I¡¯m going to kill you Elderweiss! McCarthy¡¯s rage nearly made him lose control of Da Shan¡¯s corpse, the cadaver bouncing off the wall. After ensuring his friends body was properly cared for, he stared at the door intently and began summoning a whirlwind. The wind, like sharp blades, cut through the air ¡ª whizzing and whirring with an unnatural danger. He raised his right hand and the wind morphed into a ghostly grey spear, suspended above his head.

    ¡°Good bye, Elderweiss I¡¯ll ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Eh?! Yes, who goes there? Who said my name! Dammit when you speak so loud an old man can¡¯t sleep. Speak up or I¡¯ll skin you alive!¡±

    ¡°ELDERWEISS!¡±

    ¡°Hehehe¡­ just kidding McCarthy, I just wanted to make you wait. It¡¯s what you deserve¡­ waking up an old man like me in the middle of the night!¡± The gilded door swung open on its own, it¡¯s well oiled hinges doing well to hide McCarthy¡¯s abuse that had rapidly aged it.

    McCarthy, unceremoniously, strode in and the door shut behind him. Lord Elderweiss¡¯ room was massive, most of the Department Head rooms were ¡ª but his was huge. It was a trick using Space Magic, extending the length of the dimensional plane allowed the sect to expand without claiming new land ¡ª and keep everyone relatively close together. One of McCarthy¡¯s strategic plans to ensure their defensibility. Elderweiss¡¯ room was the peak of modern Wizardry and Engineering. Thousands of books lined enormous shelves that seemed to stretch into an endless black abyss, papers, charts, pill bottles and jars filled with who knows what were scattered on tables and chairs everywhere.

    The exact opposite of McCarthy¡¯s well tidied and organized office.

    McCarthy felt a deep anger well up within him. It is simply disgusting to be this messy¡­ why I ought to wring his boney neck and make him clean up the floor with his tongue¡­ oh yes¡­ that¡¯s a juicy idea. McCarthy¡¯s mind whirled to dark places only neat freaks could understand. He glanced down the 100-meter length of the room and made a mental note of every obstacle he stumbled over. As he walked in the eerie blue light ¡ª a light that just seemed to sit in the air like a cloud, he couldn''t help but get a little nervous. McCarthy was a rather wretched man himself, but Anatomical Cultivators always creeped him out ¡ª something he didn¡¯t like about Da Shan ¡ª all the body parts in jars¡­ simply disgusting, storing parts of the human body and things like that. He hoped the old man had been faithful to the code and only used parts from cadavers, but one could never be certain. He had already killed one Department Head, the Head of Wizardry, even though that was ages ago it still left a scar on school history, a scar he didn¡¯t want to have to re-open. When McCarthy reached the old man ¡ª who was hunched over a desk fiddling with knobs, buttons and what looked to be¡­ organs? ¡ª He tapped him on the shoulder and hissed.

    ¡°Damn you Elderweiss, you couldn¡¯t bloody come to me, I¡¯m the Chancellor!¡±

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t bloody come in the daytime?¡± Elderweiss turned and stared at McCarthy defiantly, but with a hint of innocence. This was why McCarthy ultimately trusted (and liked ¡ª though he wouldn¡¯t admit it openly) Elderweiss, he wasn¡¯t a bad man¡­ relatively. There were other reasons as well¡­ but his relative goodness was the main one. McCarthy¡¯s anger subsided. Elderweiss was the definition of spindly old man, his skin was practically all that separated the outside world from his bones. He was a tall man though, if he managed to straighten out he¡¯d be over seven feet tall. He had heterochromia, one eye was green and the other orange. He wore a loose purple and gold robe draped over his skinny form and a white and grey cascading beard obscured all the robe''s intricate patterning. His beard and wild locks of snow white hair, cut him the picture of a mad scientist, no one would guess that he had the best fist techniques in the entire sect and bones sturdier than the strongest metals. McCarthy straightened his back and resisted the urge to send a wind to tidy Elderweiss¡¯ elderly appearance.

    ¡°I need a favour from you Elderweiss.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°I want you to check if this guy¡¯s dead.¡± McCarthy, with a gentle wind swept a table clean and softly placed Da Shan¡¯s body down on it.

    ¡°Eh? Interesting¡­¡± Elderwiess ambled up to the corpse and traced his finger along the neck line and glanced over, ¡°You do this yourself?¡±

    McCarthy did not respond. Elderweiss waited. Then spoke.

    ¡°When you get to be as old as me you discover something, the most valuable commodity isn¡¯t money¡­ it¡¯s information. You tell me who he is to you and I¡¯ll diagnose him.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s lips curled into a snarl, ¡°I know the diagnosis, he¡¯s dead you twit.¡±

    Elderweiss eyebrows went up, ¡°I see¡­ so why¡¯d you bring him here?¡±

    ¡°I want to verify it.¡±

    ¡°If he¡¯s dead?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Did you cut his head off?¡±

    ¡°Lee did.¡±

    ¡°Did you patch it back up¡­ with a blow torch?¡±

    McCarthy winced, recollecting his descent into insanity but responded, ¡°A lighter, but yes.¡±

    ¡°Now McCarthy, I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±

    Elderweiss absently waved, ¡°Chancellor I mean¡­ I¡¯m no expert¡­ oh wait¡­ I am!!! Hehehe! Ahem¡­ uh¡­ how do I put this? Why in the bloody hell would you think he¡¯d still be alive?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know him like I do.¡±

    ¡°McCarthy ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Chancellor¡­ no one has ever come back from the dead¡­ ever¡­ and he is very dead¡­ despite some idiot¡¯s efforts to blow torch his head back on.¡±

    ¡°So there¡¯s no hope?¡±

    ¡°None that I can see¡­ if you let me dissect him perhaps I can ¡ª¡± Elderweiss moved to the body, his hand moved across it rapidly, but McCarthy pulled back with a glare.

    ¡°No. Out of the question.¡±

    ¡°Eh¡­ you ruin all the fun¡­ Hang on¡­ what¡¯s this? You damn elf-skin you¡¯ve been lying to me!!!¡±

    McCarthy just stared at Elderweiss like one would stare at a child throwing a tantrum.

    ¡°This man¡¯s the bloody result of some human experimentation! This is disgusting¡­ly wonderful! Hmmm¡­ it seems atmospheric energy leaked out and oh?! That¡¯s why this arm exploded¡­ there¡¯s no fixing that¡­¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You know what he was up to?¡±

    ¡°Not really¡­ some complex thing¡­ If I could just dissect him, I¡¯d ¡ª¡±

    ¡°No.¡± McCarthy paused, a wind carried Da Shan and he turned on his heels and called after Elderweiss, ¡°Follow me.¡±

    Elderweiss, not wanting to lose sight of a potentially massive breakthrough in research followed McCarthy all the way to the drafting room ¡ª which had been neatly organized by Lee before he left. McCarthy set Da Shan on the floor and stood back, allowing Elderweiss to scramble all over the room, frantically grabbing at drawings and studying every little jot mark with fanaticism. After almost a solid hour of Elderweiss¡¯ insane mumblings, McCarthy cleared his throat ¡ª loudly. Elderweiss stopped, irritation plastered across his face.

    ¡°What damn you?!¡±

    ¡°So¡­ what exactly did he do¡­ I know he was trying to remake his body¡¯s potential¡­ but ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Remake his body¡¯s potential?! HA!¡± Elderweiss gave an incredible laugh to McCarthy¡¯s dumbfounded expression.

    ¡°I have it on good authority that this was his plan.¡±

    ¡°Psh! He only said that because you guys were too stupid¡­ too stupid to understand the mad genius of this man¡­ this man¡­ whoever he was,¡± Elderweiss gestured to Da Shan¡¯s body, ¡°Is a genius of unparalleled greatness!¡±

    McCarthy snorted, ¡°He¡¯s a mediocre man at ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fool! He was unlocking the secret to longevity! Why is that a soul must leave the body? Why does the time run out even if the body is healthy? He was doing two things¡­ one remaking his body, the other ¡ª erasing death itself¡­ an immortal body¡­ an unkillable body¡­ a body that no matter how damaged¡­ it wouldn¡¯t die! True immortality! A genius! Pure genius!¡± At this point Elderweiss¡¯ breath was feeding itself directly into McCarthy¡¯s nose. McCarthy pushed the old man away, who tumbled to the ground with a start and then started laughing.

    ¡°Hehehehe¡­ but something is missing here¡­ you must have it¡­ his work isn¡¯t original¡­ I can tell from the notes¡­ but he tried to expand on another work ¡ªrecreate it so to speak ¡ª Hehehe! Where is McCarthy?¡± The old man¡¯s eyes glinted with potential violence as he got to his feet and started walking to McCarthy.

    ¡°Back old fool. Or I will kill you.¡± The room went dark and a thousand winds swarmed at McCarthy¡¯s back, taking the shapes of arrows, swords, spears ¡ª every weapon imaginable ¡ª all were trained on Elderweiss. Elderweiss flinched and stepped back, his tone softening.

    ¡°I meant no harm¡­ Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Is Da Shan dead?¡±

    ¡°Eh?! This was the Elder of Mediocrity?! Dammit of all the ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Is. He. Dead.¡± Each word was slow and heavy, more like statements than questions ¡ª McCarthy¡¯s voice flat and dull.

    ¡°Yes, yes, yes¡­ he is. Definitely. Bury the body and be rid of it¡­ before it rots. He¡¯s very dead. Even if we solved his method, his soul is long gone¡­ it¡¯s impossible for him to come back. But your revenge and my revenge¡­ that becomes¡­ very possible.¡±

    McCarthy met Elderweiss¡¯ eyes with his own, and a maniacal glint sparked in it.

    ¡°Finally you speak some wise words old man. Let me fetch the tome and let¡¯s research this.¡±

    ¡°I understand why you wish he was alive, if he was¡­ Light Untold¡­ the brilliant ideas he would contribute to our research¡­ but, tut! Though he was a genius he was weak. Only Captain Grade at best.¡±

    ¡°Yes... I know¡­ a shame. Let us begin our research tomorrow, I will go bury him¡­ as a sign of respect.¡±

    ¡°Let me come to! A genius such as this I want to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°NO!¡±

    ¡°¡­ If you say so¡­ I¡¯ll just stay here then¡­¡±

    McCarthy turned and walked out. He stopped and called to Lord Elderweiss without turning around.

    ¡°Do you ever wonder where your father is?¡±

    Elderweiss¡¯ eyes narrowed, ¡°Why would I?!¡± He spat the words out in rage, ¡°The man who couldn¡¯t protect my Mother or my sister¡­ damn! He even killed them and ran away! Why would I wonder WHERE HE IS?!¡± Elderweiss¡¯ last words turned into screams of rage. His boney body huffed and puffed with anger and his eyes glowed with anger.

    ¡°Forget I asked, I¡¯ll be back in a couple hours¡­ I need some rest.¡±

    ¡°¡­Yes¡­ I¡¯ll stay here for a little bit¡­ then go and sleep¡­ then¡­ tomorrow¡­ I¡¯ll come back¡­ give me the key... or I''ll never sleep!¡±

    McCarthy tossed him the key behind his back, then started walking. His fine leather shoes clacking on the hallways and then the stairs as he walked out into the moonlight. It was passed midnight. Well passed. But he had something he needed to do. Everything was a blur to McCarthy, he somehow found himself in front of Da Shan¡¯s secret lair. He allowed himself a soft chuckle and then, in front of the rope bridge, lifted clumps of dirt and grass from the ground¡­ hollowing out a deep hole. He pulled planks and rope from the bridge, cleaning them and binding them together ¡ª making a coffin. He reached into his pocket and tossed a soft warm blanket into the coffin, a blanket that glimmered with mysterious energy that rippled along dark blue cotton threads. Katherine would want you to have it¡­

    ¡°To preserve your body old friend.¡±

    He wrapped Da Shan¡¯s corpse and set it in the coffin. He dug out the area in front of the grave at the top of the bridge and the area at the back of the drawbridge, making a small island. Slowly, he set the coffin in the grave. A wind whistled across the front of the coffin, engraving it with some words, he hesitated before engraving the last line¡­ it was a painful line. The line Da Shan said when his wife died, but it was a line he often repeated to McCarthy. A line McCarthy often repeated to himself. McCarthy gently set the coffin down. Read the words and cried. Read the words again and wept. Buried the coffin and walked off, while tears kept pouring down his face. Your story is over old friend¡­ it¡¯s my turn now. McCarthy reread the words he had written in his mind, mulling over each letter and syllable. Each recollection bringing back old long buried memories and fresh tears. When he reached his bed, he wrapped himself in his sheets, but those words were still there. He closed his eyes, but his mind kept going. Finally, when light was breaking through his window, sleep came to him.

    Here are those words:

    Oz ¡°Da Shan¡± Elderweiss

    Husband to Katherine Rose Elderweiss

    Father to Michael ¡°Lord¡± Elderweiss

    Father to Maybelle Elizabeth McCarthy

    And a True Father to Joseph Sebastian McCarthy

    ¡°Life. When it ends, there is nothing but regret.¡±

 Chapter 14: On the Thirteenth Day

    ¡°I want to see the grave.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Chancellor, please¡­ He is my ¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ª Was¡­ It¡¯s ¡®was¡¯ Edward.¡±

    Ed''s facial expression was unreadable, but his voice was hard, ¡°Da Shan was my friend, I¡¯d like to see his tomb.¡±

    McCarthy stopped scribbling on his papers and looked up. He shuffled a bit in his chair as the light poured down on him from the window, the sunlight warmed the Chancellor''s back and reflected off of Ed''s shimmering hairless scalp. A small breeze wafted into the room, carrying with it the scent of summer and flowers. McCarthy adjusted his collar. It was a grey three-piece pinstriped suit today, grey and white. His perfectly gelled hair didn¡¯t move in the slightest as he tilted his head, regarding Ed with a neutral expression ¡ª a blank look both of them were familiar with. McCarthy ¡ª after staring at Ed for a solid minute ¡ª bent back down and continued scribbling. Ed just stood there, his face impassive, but his eyebrows twitched in annoyance at being ignored. A few seconds stretched to a minute, a minute to fifteen and fifteen to an hour ¡ª still Ed had not moved. He simply stood there. Patiently. He hated this game. Finally, without looking up McCarthy spoke.

    ¡°Why are you still here?¡±

    ¡°I want to visit my friend¡¯s tomb.¡±

    ¡°You have no friends Ed¡­ you¡¯re an Auditor.¡±

    ¡°I had one.¡±

    The quill snapped in McCarthy¡¯s hands as Ed¡¯s last comment threw him off balance. McCarthy set the broken quill down. Adjusted his jacket. Took off his glasses and levelled a calm gaze at Ed. He opened his drawer and pulled another quill pen from it. He bent back down and continued working. After a moment he spoke again.

    ¡°Two people took part in Da Shan¡¯s death that night, do you know who they were Ed?¡±

    ¡°Myself and Lee.¡±

    ¡°Good... good... I''m glad that we don''t have to argue about this again. For awhile you were insistent on blaming me." At this point McCarthy looked up and wagged his pen at Ed as he continued, his tone rising, "I didn¡¯t try and pound Da Shan into a coma to get a 1000 spirit stone reward, I didn¡¯t cut off his head or break any of his bones¡­ I treated him as one friend would treat a friend. I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Put a bounty on him and sent men to hunt him throughout the ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut. Up.¡±

    The phrase was quiet. The light in the room dimmed for a moment but then returned to normal. Veins bulged on McCarthy''s temple and he bent back down to his work. McCarthy had worked hard these passed 5 years to reign in his anger. Elderweiss had continually chided him for his outbursts of rage ¡ª even though he himself was a rather capricious old codger. But things became problematic when McCarthy ¡ª in fits of rage ¡ª would kill his own staff with his bare hands. It tended to spoil the working atmosphere. The first time Elderweiss had laughed, the second time when McCarthy had killed Elderweiss'' Secratary he had stopped laughing. Then the old bat told McCarthy he had to take anger management classes or he would break off all cooperation. That was something McCarthy couldn''t afford, Da Shan''s notes were a treasure trove of information... Anatomical information ¡ª which McCarthy couldn''t understand, but desperately needed. Elderweiss had started bossing him around like an older brother. Those damn anger management classes... wait aren¡¯t I older than Elderweiss? No¡­ I think he¡¯s got me beat by a couple years¡­ I forget if he¡¯s older or younger than May¡­ He let his mind wander. This was McCarthy¡¯s secret to taming his anger, whenever someone would make the rage bubble up, he would simply disassociate himself from the moment. Just like he had been taught in class. Retreat into the garden of his mind. Just ignore them and think his own thoughts ¡ª irrelevant to the situation at hand. After all, he was the Chancellor of a sect, most people had to wait on him ¡ª not the other way around. He¡¯d make Ed wait another good hour before he started this conversation again. Hehehe¡­ I¡¯m a genius, take that Ed, what are you going to do.

    ¡°Chancellor.¡±

    McCarthy felt irritation rise.

    ¡°Chancellor.¡±

    His blood reached the boiling point.

    ¡°Chancellor.¡±

    Anger, uncontrollable anger.

    ¡°Chancellor¡±

    Thoughts of strangulation flitted to his mind.

    ¡°Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°WHAT?!¡±

    The shout staggered Ed, but the new orange enchanted outfit Ed was wearing helped negate a fair bit of the damage. In the 5 years and thirteen days since Da Shan died, Ed had worked hard to get his hand back ¡ª though McCarthy still hadn¡¯t given it back ¡ª by becoming an assassin, the top Auditor, Chief Investigator, you name it! Ed had made himself nearly indispensable to the Chancellor, and now, McCarthy was loathed to kill him ¡ª a fact Ed knew and leveraged against him frequently. Through careful negotiation and hard work Ed had become ridiculously wealthy. All 12 of Ed¡¯s children were in the best classes the sect had to offer, and all of them were rather promising individuals in their own rights. Even the twins who were just five years old were being hailed as prodigies. This accomplishment was made all the more grand because none of them were blood related. It was a bit of good luck when adopting and another secret Ed kept well hidden. Everyone in his family was doing well. Everyone except for that thirteenth child. He was abysmal. A total failure. Everyone always spoke of Ed¡¯s first 12 children and the thirteenth child as if they were different groups, that¡¯s just how awful the thirteenth child was -¡ª at everything. Ed rubbed his bald head. Hmmm¡­ I should address that, after I finish this. Ed cleared his throat and straightened the gold chain around his neck and locked eyes with McCarthy, "Chancellor, I would like to ¡ª"

    ¡°Ed, I will answer your question about the grave if you give me a couple answers to some questions of my own.¡±

    Ed perked up, the Chancellor ¡ª though a violent psychopath ¡ª was an honest man, for the most part, ¡°Ask away sir.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, ask away Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Why do you keep the thirteenth child around?¡±

    ¡°Eh? This is hardly connected¡­ but¡­ I don¡¯t know really. I adopted him last year¡­ poor thing was starved and skinny as a bean.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think ¡®skinny¡¯ applies to beans,¡± murmured McCarthy under his breath.

    ¡°Sorry, what was that Chancellor, I didn¡¯t hear you?¡±

    ¡°Continue Ed.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ well. I just sort of feel bad for the guy.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s his name again?¡±

    ¡°Oz.¡±

    ¡°You should make him change that name.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I will¡­ I suppose.¡±

    ¡°It creeps me out whenever I see that kid... it really creeps me out.¡±

    "What, you hate amputees?"

    "We are an equal opportunity employer Ed, do not slander this school... I mean... I still keep you around." McCarthy smirked at Ed''s stub.

    "Dick."

    McCarthy''s grin widened, "I''ve heard that before... but that kid better become useful one day... our enemies could use him as leverage against you, why do you keep him around?"

    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not his fault he¡¯s missing an arm! Frig¡­ when I found the kid by the side of the road¡­ the stump was all bloody from some wild beast.¡± Ed felt a tingle in a hand that was no longer there. He paused. And looked at his own stump, ¡°Never mind, I think I figured out why I keep him around.¡±

    ¡°Well, share it here then.¡±

    ¡°I ain¡¯t gonna.¡±

    ¡°Ed, do not ever speak like that in my presence, it¡¯s disgusting.¡±

    ¡°Aye, aye, sorry sir.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Aye.¡±

    ¡°Anyways, my second question." He paused and almost grimaced before asking, "How is Elderweiss doing?¡±

    ¡°Bad, he said that Da Shan started writing in code at some point so he can¡¯t understand what he¡¯s on about.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, ¡®what he¡¯s on about¡¯, fix your damn slang man!¡±

    Ed rubbed his bald head in great irritation. Dammit you bloody horse bridle! If you wuddn¡¯t the Chancellor I¡¯d freaking quit¡­ Dammit¡­ ever since I lost my hand I haven¡¯t been able to make my baby as happy as before¡­ Damn you McCarthy! Ed cleared his throat, banishing his thoughts from his mind and corrected himself, ¡°He doesn¡¯t understand Da Shan¡¯s research passed a certain point, he¡¯s been taking time to decode the system.¡±

    ¡°Hasn¡¯t he been decoding for the passed couple years now?¡±

    Ed fiddled with his fingers and looked down, ¡°Apparently Da Shan invented his own system of cuneiform to write with¡­ about halfway through his research.¡±

    The quill in McCarthy¡¯s hand shattered into pieces, ¡°Damn old man¡­¡± He huffed under his breath. McCarthy rubbed his eyes till they went blood shot and then pursed his fingers on his temple. Prick you Da Shan... even dead you find a way to piss me off. Dammit... we''re running out of time. He looked at the bald black man in front of him, his face a cool mask, ¡°Da Shan¡¯s grave is off limits to everyone but me. As it has been for the passed 5 years, you¡¯ve never asked before, why now?¡±

    ¡°This is the day him and I met 200 years ago¡­ it¡¯s hard to forget, but I think 5 years is long enough for you to grieve. Allow others to do so.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Don¡¯t push me Ed.¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you taken enough revenge? You have my hand and Lee is still out on that Full Moon mission ¡ª if he''s still alive ¡ª have you even taken responsibility for your role in his death?¡±

    ¡°We talked about this before Ed... I didn''t kill him. Lee killed him¡­ not me. And you made him weak so that Lee could kill him. You are a menace and a danger to him. The only reason I spared you was for his sake, I knew, I knew that he¡¯d want you to live, OR I WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU!¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Ed shrank back, the shout buffeting his clothes fiercely ¡ªdenting his protective gold chain ¡ª but when he regained his balance, Ed stepped forward again. McCarthy took it as a challenge, Ed could feel the Chancellor¡¯s hackles rising with anger. His rage was palpable, the psychopath hated it when people showed no fear. But then like the melting of winter¡¯s snow, McCarthy¡¯s rage dissipated, his anger melted away and sadistic smile warped his face. Ed backed up. Damn... I pushed him too far. McCarthy spoke.

    ¡°Here¡¯s the deal, you can see his grave, in exchange you give me a foot¡­ I prefer the right foot, you are right-footed Ed? I want that foot. The right foot.¡± McCarthy locked a predatory gaze on Ed and opened his desk drawer and pulled out a jar with green liquid and a black skinned hand. Ed¡¯s heart raced and sweat went down his body. McCarthy then pulled out another jar with green liquid and set it beside the hand. Ed felt his heart drop, but in that casual tone ¡ª like he was discussing dinner plans with a friend, McCarthy continued, ¡°I think I¡¯ve been too nice to you Ed, you seem to have forgotten the power dynamics of our relationship. Allow me to remind you what it means to be an employee of my fine institution¡­ you have two choices. Give me your right foot and you can see Da Shan¡¯s grave. Give me your left foot and you walk out of here alive. Oh, and Ed. You have to do it yourself.¡± McCarthy pulled a dull saw-toothed knife from his jacket pocket and tossed it to Ed.

    Ed¡¯s body started shivering, there it was, it had been gone for the past five years¡­ Frig I flipped the switch¡­ please hell no¡­ hell no¡­ please no¡­ no¡­ no¡­ A tear streaked down Ed¡¯s face, McCarthy¡¯s grin widened. Ed steeled his resolve. He bent down. Grabbed the knife. His sweaty palms making him drop it the first few times. Ed felt his body age immensely with each passing second. Frig¡­ am I going to do this¡­ am I? Ed took a furtive glance to the door. Someone! Anyone! Help!

    A knock sounded on the door. Ed nearly collapsed with relief.

    ¡°Please wait, I am in the middle of something important.¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice shattered what little relief Ed felt. Ed shuddered as McCarthy¡¯s snake like gaze fell on him, the sadistic smile still there and still wide. ¡°Ed, you have three seconds¡­ One¡­ two¡­¡± Wind started dancing around McCarthy and the lights in the room dimmed ¡ª as if adjusted by an invisible hand. ¡°Three ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right foot.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    ¡°The right foot. I¡¯ll cut the right foot.¡±

    ¡°Well, what are you waiting for?¡±

    Ed let the knife fall with a clatter, but after McCarthy glared at him, he reached down and picked it up again. Readying himself, his body shivering with fear he placed the blade on his skin. ¡°You¡¯re insane¡­¡± McCarthy¡¯s eyes narrowed, then raised his hand. Ed paused. McCarthy spoke.

    ¡°Oh, this sounds familiar... The last time something like this happened I didn¡¯t get a chance to properly reply. Please Ed, ask me again.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Ask. Me. Again.¡±

    Ed sweated and cocked an eyebrow, ¡°Are you insane?¡±

    McCarthy abruptly stood up, his broad shoulders blocking most of the afternoon light that streamed in through his windows. A rough coating of stubble ¡ª uncharacteristic of the neat freak ¡ª dotted his face, McCarthy casually strode up to Ed. Rivers of sweat poured down the black man¡¯s back, making his shirt hot and sticky. Ed gulped.

    McCarthy dusted off Ed¡¯s orange shirt, gently running his hands along the boney frame of the old shopkeeper, carefully cleaning him off.

    ¡°Who gave you these clothes Ed, I like the orange.¡±

    The tension was palpable, Ed gulped again, ¡°You did sir.¡±

    ¡°Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Right, Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a smart one Ed, that¡¯s why I like you ¡ª I suppose it¡¯s because you¡¯re a Psycher though ¡ª no matter. How did I give this to you, Ed?¡± McCarthy now straightened Ed¡¯s collar, his face inches away from the black man.

    ¡°You¡¯re my employer sir ¡ª er, um ¡ª Chancellor.¡±

    ¡°Right, so where do you work?¡±

    ¡°At ugh¡­ your sect sir.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ so without the sect¡­ would you have a job?¡±

    ¡°Honestly that¡¯s the only reason I¡¯m still here, with you being a tyrant and all¡­ it¡¯s still better than most of the sects out there.¡±

    McCarthy looked daggers at Ed, but the old merchant had read the mood well and the Chancellor seemed to take Ed¡¯s comment as more of a compliment than anything else.

    ¡°What holds the sect together Ed?¡±

    ¡°Ugh¡­ now that ain¡¯t¡­ Isn¡¯t¡­ so easy to figure out. I would say reputation, our school has a great reputation.¡±

    ¡°So close Ed¡­ It¡¯s me.¡± McCarthy spread his arms wide and grinned at the old Psyker.

    Ed stared at McCarthy with a nearly incredulous look.

    ¡°I am the most powerful person in this sect¡­ there are many other powerful people and perhaps ¡ª if they banded together ¡ª they could overthrow me.¡± McCarthy turned and walked to his desk, opening a drawer he pulled out a cigarette pack. He opened it up and put an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Ed leaned forward and lit it for him. McCarthy took a deep draw. Smoking. A bad habit he picked up to deal with his role in Da Shan¡¯s¡­ demise. It gripped him furiously now, but it helped calm his anger ¡ª that was the reason it was okay, he told himself this over and over again. McCarthy took a few guilty puffs before posing a question to the bald man.

    ¡°But why don''t they Ed?"

    "I dunno."

    "Well since you don''t know let me phrase it this way: What would be the cost ¡ª of overthrowing me ¡ª to the sect?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    "Most cultivators are corrupt and non-moral creatures¡­ Especially the powerful people in this sect¡­ true scum thinking only of themselves. So, how do I stop them from waging a war against me for their own benefit?¡± McCarthy paused and gave Ed a meaningful gaze, "I make it not beneficial to kill me."

    Ed scratched his head. McCarthy continued.

    ¡°If people tried to kill me there would be a war, to win they¡¯d have to kill everyone loyal to me. Elderweiss is my brother-in-law, so no one would trust him and he¡¯s the Head of Anatomical Cultivation¡­ so that¡¯s a big fight ¡ª especially since the Psychic Branch is under his control." Ed flinched at that but McCarthy didn''t notice, "The Head of Alchemy, Eleazer, is one of my strongest supporters¡­ so there goes the biggest money-making enterprise of the sect¡­ I¡¯d go on. But essentially, by the end of the sect war, the Pentagon would be just ¡°gon¡±.

    ¡°Good joke sir.¡±

    ¡°Chancellor. And you¡¯re not getting out of this foot thing.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°But there''s more than that Ed. If this sect loses its power¡­ the political ramifications ¡ª something only me and my Cabal know ¡ª would be immense. Devilish Cultivators and Witches would emerge like you wouldn¡¯t believe. But there''s another crucial ingredient... can you guess it?"

    ¡°Great leadership skills.¡± Ed responded dryly, his level of respect decreasing as he thought of his poor feet.

    ¡°Close¡­ Fear, Ed¡­ it¡¯s fear. Coercion is necessary... but it''s too ''costly'' for me to continually have to hunt down all the rebels. It''s best if the rebels and I can coexist... and for that to happen. They need to be afraid of me.¡± At this point McCarthy took a long draw, draining his cigarette down to the filter. He put it on a plate and took another. Ed lit it and wished he could pull out his pipe. McCarthy took another long puff and then continued, ¡°I have full control over them. To you ¡ª¡± McCarthy gestured absently at Ed¡¯s feet, ¡°¡ª it¡¯s just a foot, but to me, it is the embodiment of law and order. Law only exists through coercion, but coercion is costly and damaging. Fear¡­ fear, keeps people in line at a very low cost.¡±

    McCarthy looked at Ed with a cold hard glare, the old man seemed profoundly disinterested, or perhaps disgusted. Lesser men can never understand the minds of greater men. Maybe I¡¯ve pushed him too far¡­ wouldn¡¯t want him to not value his life. McCarthy took a deep puff and extinguished his cigarette.

    ¡°Get lost Ed. Never ask me about Da Shan again.¡±

    Ed allowed a stunned but small smile to creep on his face. I¡¯ve gotten a lot better at reading this monster¡­ So Elderweiss is your brother-in-law? Interesting stuff.

    ¡°Thank you, Chancellor.¡±

    McCarthy also let a small smile creep on his lips, ¡°Good, now get out.¡±

    Ed bowed and walked out of the room, before he shut the door he heard the renewed scratching of McCarthy¡¯s pen. Say what you will about the man, but he had a profoundly insane work ethic. He also had a firm grasp on the political situation of his own sect ¡ª he knew who he could trust (for the most part) ¡ª and who he couldn¡¯t. Ed turned to look at the person who was waiting at the door. The man had greasy hair and a smarmy smile, his slick black suit fitted his oily appearance almost too well. It was another Psyker, he was the person who knocked when Ed was about to lose his foot. Ed looked at him and hooked his thumb towards the door, "It''s all yours and thanks, even though you don''t know what for. But thank you."

    "Oh I know perfectly well why you''re grateful. I''m not here for him... I''m here fore you. Elder Quan sent me... go to the beacon." Before Ed could react, the man vanished in thin air.

    A Thought Transfer? And so fast! What a powerful Psyker. Frick... what does Elder Quan want with me? Ed made his way down the halls, occasionally looking over his back to ensure he wasn¡¯t being followed, when he was certain there was no one there he cast meld and allowed his body to shimmer and enter the Thought Realm ¡ª the dimension where minds and thoughts existed, it was a secret dimension that held many secrets and was only traversable by Psykers. Ed¡¯s body went ghostly and he sat down and focused, reaching with his mind to flashing light underneath the school. Soon students passed by, walked beside and even through him ¡ª but no one noticed him. No one in this wing was a strong enough Psycher to see a Thought Transfer or to touch the Thought Realm ¡ª Ed doubted McCarthy even knew it existed, it was a well guarded secret among Psychers. Ed¡¯s ethereal form remained sitting, cross-legged and he stretched even harder with his mind for the beckoning light, far below the school. Finally, Ed locked on to the signal and grasped it with his mind, he willed himself to go to it.

    Snap!

    He felt like his body was torn in half as he instantaneously was transferred to room, thousands of feet below the school. After regaining his composure, Ed gripped the beacon that had been his point of transfer. It was a black, long needle like object with pulsating blue runes wrapped all about it. After replenishing his psychosis reserves from the needle, he manifested himself, falling out of the Thought Realm into normal life. He vomitted blood and bile. Thought Transfers were a really painful procedure. Ed looked up from the pile of half digested food and blood and his eyes narrowed.

    In front of Ed was what appeared to be a handsome young man. The man wore a loose fitting dark blue suit, with a white chemise and a grey vest. Upon seeing Ed, he flicked a dangling gold chain and a pocket watch popped out. Opening it and smiling at the dials he reached and scratched behind his ears. His combed back blonde hair resembling McCarthy¡¯s careful appearance. A slender but muscular build made him seem affable, even docile though charismatic, his handsome face turned upward into a small grin.

    ¡°You¡¯re getting better at that,¡± his velvety voice lolled out, almost hypnotizing Ed with it¡¯s overwhelming psychosis.

    ¡°Elder Quan, it is a pleasure to meet you again,¡± Ed managed to right himself and speak with a clear voice after regaining his bearings. He stood and carefully looked to make sure all his clothes weren''t stained.

    ¡°Please, Quan is my last name, just call me Jannes. It''s not our first time meeting,¡± with a wave of his hand he pulled two ornate wooden chairs out of the darkness and after Ed sat, he himself sat. ¡°So, I was scrying in this room and I chanced upon you meeting with the¡­¡±

    ¡°Chancellor.¡± Ed supplied with a bit of distaste. I¡¯ve been forced to say that word a lot.

    Jannes¡¯ eyebrows wiggled with amusement.

    Damnit Quan, stop listening to my mind!

    Oops, sorry Eddie¡­ I¡¯ll hold back a little.

    Git! Out! Of! My! Mind!

    Ed felt an innocuous presence leave his mind, a presence he didn¡¯t realize was there before. He felt a chill run down his back. ¡°You were listening in the whole time!¡±

    ¡°Of course I was, I had to make sure you weren¡¯t betraying the Association.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried about you listening you twit!¡± Ed spat the phrase vehemently, caught off guard, Elder Quan¡¯s face wrinkled with displeasure. Ed continued, unabated, ¡°What if he sensed you?! We¡¯d both be dead!¡±

    ¡°Please¡­ I am the Head of the Psychic Branch¡­ there¡¯s no way he would sense me. McCarthy seems to have low Psychic defences, as you¡¯ve noticed. So, our plan can move on to the next phase¡­ I want you to bring me with you¡­ to every conversation you have with him. Things have gotten more troublesome. Apparently, if I want to kill McCarthy, I have to get rid of Lord Elderweiss on top of Eleazer ¡ª a probably impossible feat.¡±

    ¡°What''s the problem with Elderweiss?¡± Ed¡¯s tone was easy and casual. This wasn¡¯t the first time Ed had talked treachery with Jannes. Ever since McCarthy threatened his wife 5 years ago, Ed knew there was nowhere in the world he was safe ¡ª so long as McCarthy still lived. One day, when he was in particular anguish over his lost hand, the Head of the Psychic Branch overheard him ¡ª his mental thoughts of murder towards McCarthy. This man, instead of turning Ed in, opened a whole new world to Ed. Jannes Quan was a powerful man, he was a Branch Head after all. Branch being a division of a Department (Elderweiss being the head of the Department of Anatomical Cultivation and Quan being the head of the Psychic Studies Branch in the same Department). Elder Quan offered him a way to get revenge ¡ª an excellent opportunity that coincided with Ed¡¯s goals. Ed didn¡¯t need to think twice before accepting, he was starting to hate this sect. But anyways, back to the present.

    Jannes responded, ¡°He¡¯s too mysterious.¡±

    Oh, so he¡¯s not too strong. Ed¡¯s mind whirred at the phrasing, he eyed the other man with curiosity. Jannes himself was an enigma, where did he come from, nobody knows. His name was identical to the Elder who was supposedly killed by Da Shan and McCarthy¡­ probably a son of his ¡ª especially since according to Da Shan, Quan was a Vigour Cultivator ¡ª it explains the motivation for this insane plan. But Ed didn¡¯t pry, it was better to know as little as possible.

    ¡°The relationship of brother-in-law is intriguing¡­ and unexpected.¡±

    Hmmm maybe not a relative of Elder Quan then¡­ I find it unlikely that he wouldn¡¯t know how Da Shan and McCarthy were related.

    ¡°You know someone with my name?¡±

    ¡°Stop. Prying.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ if you insist.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be going now.¡±

    ¡°Yes, please do, make sure you always transfer here and speak to me directly. Sending messages through the Thought Realm isn''t very... secure. And sometimes things get lost in transit, even when my presence is with you¡­ sometimes¡­ I can¡¯t hear your conversations¡­ there¡¯s a lot of weird whispering in McCarthy¡¯s office¡­"

    ¡°Will do.¡±

    Jannes tossed a sack of spirit stones to Ed. ¡°There¡¯s 100 stones in there, an advance for our continued cooperation.¡±

    ¡°Much appreciated.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll turn on the surface beacon for you, I¡¯ll send you to the forest again.¡±

    Ed bowed. Vanished and transferred. Once Ed was gone Elder Quan leaned back in the chair, a malevolent sneer engulfed his face, warping his handsome features, in a soft voice he said, ¡°Old fool.¡±

 Chapter 15: The Caterpillar and His Hookah

    Ed steadied himself after the Thought Transfer, he swayed on his feet. Steadied himself again. He mumbled under his breath, ¡°I¡¯m getting too old for this¡­¡± He was inside the forest at the back of the school. He glanced at the needle like beacon he used to get here. As if bashful at his attention it soon himmered and disappeared from sight. He shook his head. Where did this guy come from? Ed tore his mind from contemplating a problem that could very well be the death of him. Hell, the old goat might be listening to my mind right now¡­ best be careful. Ed cleared his mind and rubbed his bald head with a gnarled hand.

    He folded his hands behind his back ¡ª his one hand grabbing the stump where the other used to be ¡ª and started walking like an elderly Chinese man. He felt old. Whenever he walked like this he thought of Da Shan. The fool had prattled on about the importance of posture and how placing the hands behind the back was some revelation he received from George Washington or whatever. Ed sighed. He missed that bumbling idiot¡­ he missed him a lot. A tear streaked down Ed¡¯s face. He let it fall unchecked. He started wandering aimlessly through the forest, reflecting on his life and all the things that had happened in the past few years. Lost in thought he soon found himself in front of the old dingy rope bridge, now an island unto itself ¡ª the place where Da Shan lay. His mind drifted back to that time five years past. That time. It weighed on Ed deeply. It was a scar, an old grisly wound that would not go away. Guilt wracked his mind whenever he recalled those lifeless eyes.

    I might as well have killed him¡­ I shudda just let ¡®im go. I shudda just never opened the door¡­ or I could''ve left a note¡­ or damn¡­ there were so many possibilities. Ed¡¯s wrinkles had deepened, his black skin was weathered and dusty and all his bones ached. 20/20 hindsight¡­ hot damn.

    The tired old shopkeeper let his hand fall on the wall of wind that separated him from the island, the bridge, the coffin and the body of his only friend. He felt anger bubble within as he recalled the man who had put him there. The man who had sealed off the grave. The damn man who couldn¡¯t admit he made a mistake. Prick¡­ one day McCarthy! I¡¯ll kill you with my own hands! Ed clenched his fists and walked off.

    He took his time, meandering through the woods, his feet leaving soft imprints in the cool earth. He saw a particularly beautiful patch of flowers, and with a soft sigh, made his way over. There were a bunch of Gerbera Daisies, orange, yellow and red. Their fragrance was light and sweet. He thought of his wife and smiled. His wife was getting more wrinkles, but she was still beautiful ¡ª mortal that she was. Edna was more worried about his increasingly dangerous lines of work ¡ª with good reason ¡ª rather than her impending mortality. Maybe he should pick her some flowers, to ease the tension between her brows. He stooped down and began eclectically picking flowers, only the finest and best smelling. As he was picking flowers something bright red, in the back of the patch, caught his eyes.

    Eh? What¡¯s this? It¡¯s a Bloodwart Mushroom! Hmmm¡­ it¡¯s a Green Grade¡­ Hehehe¡­ anything not White Grade is worth it! This might help Oz¡­ the poor lad. Ed allowed a warm expression to run across his face. He quickly stuffed the mushroom into his bag and arranged the bouquet in his hand and quickly started making his way to the house, a small smile on his face. Family¡­ without my family¡­

    Edna puttered around the house, there was a massive pot simmering on the stove. Stew. The breakfast, lunch and dinner of champions ¡ª and the Amish. When you had a big family, substance was always sacrificed for quantity. She reached into cupboards and shelves, grabbing spices, herbs and seasoning ¡ª and dusting them in after a taste. She took another taste.

    ¡°It needs more onions¡­¡±

    ¡°What was that Mom?¡±

    ¡°Onions dearie, onions¡­ the stew needs more onions. Would you grab me a bag?¡±

    ¡°Ah, of course.¡±

    The small patter of feet grew more distant as a small figure left the room and the creaking of stairs was heard as those little feet made their way to the pantry. Edna smiled to herself.

    ¡°What a good lad,¡± she murmured. Of all her kids, he was the best to have around the house. He was polite. Quiet. Obedient. But, he lacked the passion and excitement of a typical 5-year-old, sometimes he even seemed depressed ¡ª almost dead. She shuddered, she dipped a finger in the soup and popped it in her mouth. Her curvy lips bunched in a knot as she pursed them thoughtfully. The mouth watering scent was stronger than the not quite mouth watering taste.

    Perhaps a dash of fresh parsley? Hmmm. Edna eyed the bubbling stew and glanced to the highest cupboard in her kitchen. Damn Psyker thinks it¡¯s funny to just float up ingredients to the hard to reach places. With a huff she went and grabbed a stool from the table, set it down with a plunk. She gathered her apron in one hand ¡ª ensuring it wouldn¡¯t dangle into the soup ¡ª and stretched to the topmost cupboard, but her fingers were just shy. She gritted her teeth and stretched again, this time on her tiptoes. With a triumphant cry the cupboard swung open but then she felt a sudden drop in the pit of her stomach. She was about to fall. Her eyes saw the fresh bunch of parsley, laughing at her as she started to tumble.

    Oh no you don¡¯t! With an expression laden with bloodthirst, her hand shot out and swiped the fresh bunch of parsley from the cupboard. A smile wreathed her face, touching the wrinkles at her eyes. Victory! She felt her gut clench as she lost balance.

    ¡°MOM!¡±

    She heard a small voice cry out and little feet storm towards her and then the dull thud of a bundle of onions frantically dropped to ground. Like the onions, she fell to the floor.

    ¡°MOOOOOM!¡±

    She felt a small arm catch her, then give way under her weight as she barrelled into the body of her 5-year-old. The small body tangling with hers and after a short roll ending up on top ¡ª as they smashed into the cupboards. She opened her eyes to smile at the figure of her boy, he seemed a little dazed, but otherwise unharmed. But her smile turned to a look of horror as the pot of soup came barrelling down.

    She screamed.

    ¡°Git! OUT!¡± A ripple of psychic energy barrelled out from the door and both the pot and scalding hot soup splashed and clattered against the wall. Ed darted into the house and rushed to his wife and son. Edna stood up to hug her husband, almost shaking with fear. But the boy whimpered as Ed approached and hid himself behind Edna.

    ¡°Boy, don¡¯t you hide from your Papa after he just saved your girly skin!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay Edna¡­ I think he¡¯s still afraid of me ¡ª after he saw me kill that man.¡±

    ¡°But baby, you saved his life!¡±

    ¡°Boy duddn¡¯t understand that kind of thing¡­ he was like 3.¡± Ed helped his wife up and straightened out his back and then awkwardly made his way to the table and sat down. Ed closed his eyes and lifted the stew off the ground, opened a window and sent it outside. He then lifted the pot and set it on the stove ¡ª after extinguishing the fire.

    Edna smiled at her husband and put her hands on her hips, ¡°Well¡­ now I got to make another stew¡­¡± She glanced at her boy and wagged her finger, ¡°You thank your father for what he did, okay? I¡¯ll call on you when I need you to get ingredients. It¡¯s not good for you sit around all day all glum.¡± The boy''s clear eyes locked with hers for a moment, Edna did a double take every time she met those eyes. They seemed deep and rich. Full of emotion but devoid of life. The boy soon nodded. Happy with the his nod of assent she bustled off to remake the pot of stew ¡ª mumbling under her breath about it all the way.

    The boy walked over to the table. He pulled himself up onto a chair and looked sullenly at the floor ¡ª refusing to make eye contact with Ed. Ed flashed a toothy grin. The boy didn¡¯t react. Ed pulled out a pipe from his pocket. Reached in and pulled out a bag of tobacco. Cherry. He took a pinch. Stuffed his pipe. Put it in his mouth. Lit a match and held it above the pipe and was about to take a deep draw when he noticed a pair of soft brown eyes staring at him reproachfully. He felt his chest tighten. That look was too familiar. McCarthy¡¯s voice sounded in his head. It creeps me out whenever I see that kid. At moments like this, Ed could emphasize with McCarthy. He extinguished the match. And put the pipe down.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Next to Edna, you¡¯re my greatest weakness boy¡­ I don¡¯t know why I care for you so much.¡±

    The boy seemed to back away.

    ¡°Haha! Not like that kid, I may be a eunuch but I still like giving it more than I like taking it.¡±

    The boy¡¯s face wrinkled.

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that¡­ hehe¡­ I got something for you.¡±

    The boy flashed Ed an inquisitive look. He rarely spoke when interacting with Ed, Ed didn¡¯t understand why¡­ but he¡¯d almost never heard the boy¡¯s voice. In fact¡­ had he ever heard the boy speak? If he did, he didn¡¯t remember.

    ¡°Ta-da!¡± Ed pulled out the Bloodwart Mushroom and smirked in a self-congratulatory way when he saw the boy¡¯s excitement. ¡°I¡¯m gunna make this into a concoction for you!¡±

    The boy¡¯s face balked with incredulity.

    ¡°What you don¡¯t think your old man can do it? Ha! I suppose it is Green Grade¡­ wouldn¡¯t want it to go to waste¡­ Meh! I¡¯ll think about it. Maybe I¡¯ll give it to Eleazer, he owes me a favor after all.¡±

    The boy¡¯s face looked even more incredulous.

    ¡°What you think I don¡¯t know Eleazer, the Head of Alchemy? Hmph¡­ what do you know. Your old man¡¯s a spy! A really important spy, he knows a lot of people. Wait how do you know who Eleazer is?¡±

    The boy looked confused.

    ¡°Hmph¡­ suppose you never said you knew him¡­ alright. Point for you. Oh, hey¡­ did McCarthy send me¡­¡±

    The boy produced a pouch with 1000 spirit stones in it and handed it to him along with a note. Ed took the pouch and stashed it, he took a glance at the note and crumpled it up and floated it to the fire with his mind. Ed looked at the boy and said, ¡°Wanna bring me an apple?¡±

    With a bow, the boy inclined his head, hopped off the chair, grabbed an apple and started walking back. When the boy was halfway back another apple zipped through the air and landed in Ed¡¯s hand. The boy¡¯s little face bubbled with fury, his expression contorted with an anger that only made him look comical. Ed took a bite out of the apple and laughed heartily.

    ¡°Psychic powers are the best¡­ I hope¡­ you keep working hard¡­ in time, I¡¯m sure some potential will show itself.¡± Though initially a happy statement the closing note was rather sad. The boy¡¯s face was melancholic. He sat on his chair and ate the apple. Ed tossed him 5 spirit stones.

    ¡°Your allowance, for helping the Missus¡­ go play.¡± Ed looked at the boy.

    The boy was smiling. His white shirt draped down past his knees, almost obscuring his grey pants. The rope sandals he wore on his feet ¡ª which he made himself ¡ª added a splash of blonde to his appearance. One arm held half a bright red apple and the other arm was missing in its entirety, all up to the torso ¡ª letting one sleeve of his tunic dangle loosely. A black rope belt around his waist accented his slightly chubby form, dimples on his cheek, clean black hair, soft brown eyes and beige skin cut him quite the adorable figure. He looked like something out of a story of knights and princesses, a minor role only though. Something like the small little stable boy or something or other. It¡¯s such a shame. Ed thought sorrowfully.

    ¡°Oz, go play.¡± Ed repeated himself, more firm this time. ¡°I have two babies to fetch from school in an hour, you can come with me if you go play.¡±

    The boy got off the chair and walked outside the back door. Ed sighed. Kid¡¯s like allergic to sunlight¡­ Pulled out his pipe. Stared at it. Shook his head. Put it away and went to finish tidying up the spilled stew.

    Oz walked up the hill behind his house, his rope sandals, insufficient to protect his toes from the rough blades of grass that cut at his feet. Ed¡¯s house was at the edge of the town near the sect. Around the town was an expansive forest and at the entrance of the town was a deep canyon and a highway. The sharp turns and cliffs of the canyon rippled into hills and grassy knolls that provided a natural protection to the school town. Ed¡¯s house was at the north end of the town and from the tall hill behind his house you could see almost everything. You could see the bustling market, the busy road, the birds, the trees and in the distance, off to the west ¡ª the school. Oz liked this spot. It warmed his heart for some reason. The sunlight was warm and comforting. He loved the sun. But he still burned very easily. And he¡¯d much rather just lay in the sun than do anything else. He lied down on the hill and looked back at the house. The sound of cicadas purring and the smell of grass filled his nose and ears. The soft caress of the wind on his body and the sight of the clouds filled him with a strange feeling. A feeling altogether alien to a typical five-year old. Nostalgia. A memory flashed in his mind, a memory he tried to suppress. But one he could not ignore.

    It was two years ago, at the time he was three. It was a stormy and rainy night, Ed had rescued him and taken him in. Oz had been living at his house for about a week. The young boy had just started to fit in with the family and Ed¡¯s twin daughters adored him. But all was not as it appeared. Oz was biding his time, despite all that Ed had done for him, he planned to kill the man and gut him like a fish. He couldn¡¯t explain this desire that he had, just that it was how he felt. Like a dark hand clutching at his mind, it guided him like a puppet on a string. Kill Ed! It screamed at him in his mind, over and over again. He would fantasize about the man¡¯s death, he saw blood, guts and gore. He wanted to dance in the bloody puddles and let the rain fall on him. Revenge was the all-consuming thought in his little mind.

    He couldn¡¯t quite understand why he wanted revenge, his toddler sized mind was unable to process the vast memories that roiled through his brain. All he got were impressions and strong emotions. Hatred. Betrayal. Hurt. These fueled his desire for revenge. And a cunning plan had hatched in his tiny brain. He didn¡¯t know how he knew, but he knew, on a rainy night, Ed would sleep well. Lightning never woke him and his wife. He didn¡¯t know how he knew that a knife to the throat would kill the old man. He didn¡¯t know why he knew that the sternum would get in the way of a stab to the chest ¡ª or even what a sternum was. He didn¡¯t know why, but he knew that this was his chance and this was what he must do to succeed.

    That night, he rolled out of the little cot that Ed had put for him in his bedroom and slowly opened the door. A couple oil lamps gave a dim light to the hall, more than enough to safely move around. Most of Ed¡¯s kids had moved out by now, only the twins: Lilywyn and Gwen, lived at home. Both were fast asleep in the room next door. His little feet, more co-ordinated than an ordinary three-year-old, silently stepped across the floor. He was careful, his posture slightly off due to the lack of an arm, but it wasn¡¯t enough to stop him. He snuck down the stairs and into the kitchen. He rummaged around and found what he was looking for. A long, sharp knife. Da Shan gripped it in his right hand, his only hand and made his way carefully back up the stairs. He snuck back in the room, careful to not make a sound. His hand was sweaty on the knife, but some foreign strength steadied him. Cracks of lightning and peals of thunder sounded in the night, but he was not shaken. A ghostly memory reminded him that he knew how to do this, that he had done this many times before. His hand clenched the blade. He pulled the stool from beside the bed and stood on it. He extended his hand over Ed¡¯s throat. The soft breathing of the frail old man echoed in the room and was interspersed with the crackles of lighting. The sheets were sticky with sweat and Ed tossed and turned fervently. Oz waited for the elderly man to stop thrashing so he could get a clean cut. Ed stilled. Oz leaned forward to deliver the death stroke.

    Then his little ears heard a soft whisper.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry Da Shan¡­ for my¡­ for my¡­ family.¡±

    Oz¡¯s little heart clenched, he didn¡¯t know why but it compacted in his chest. He ignored it. He steeled his resolve and leaned forward again.

    The creak of the door startled him and with a flash he hid the blade behind his back and faced the now open door, light from an oil lamp illuminated the hall and a small girly face peered at him in the dim light.

    ¡°Oz¡­ I¡¯m scared¡­¡±

    It was Lilywyn, her frightened eyes glued to Oz¡¯s form. Over this week and over many naps they had grown close together. He felt a strong love for the girl that he could not explain with his little mind, a strange emotion, an emotion that was almost fatherly. Then it hit him so hard he almost fell from the stool. Pain. Intense emotional pain. The thought of her being without a father. The thought of killing the beloved child of a Dad. It hurt him. Like a brick in his chest. Oz let a small gasp escape his tiny malnourished form. He gritted his teeth and whispered, ¡°Close your eyes Lilywyn.¡±

    ¡°I scared¡­ it¡¯s dark¡­ I¡­¡±

    ¡°Close your eyes Lilywyn.¡±

    Little tears welled in her eyes, the water threatened to burst, but then Oz softly whispered, ¡°Close your eyes Lilywyn¡­ when you open them¡­ I¡¯ll be right there.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± She reluctantly closed her eyes. Once her eyes were shut Oz hopped down the chair, landing softly, he gently placed the knife under the bed and out of sight. He quickly walked up to Lilywyn and embraced her with his arm ¡ª just as she opened her eyes.

    Crack!

    ¡°Wah! Wah!¡±

    A flash of lightning darted across the sky, followed by the crack of thunder and Lilywyn¡¯s crying. Edna stirred in the bed, sitting up, her sleepy voice calling out, ¡°Baby girl, what are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Moooom!¡±

    ¡°Shush child, come here!¡±

    Lilywyn tore herself from Oz¡¯s hug and bolted to Ed¡¯s side of the bed, unable to climb up. Oz came behind her and gently helped her onto the chair and then into the bed. The little girl had just finished worming herself into the bed when Gwen walked in the door, her soft voice calling out.

    ¡°Moooooooom!¡±

    Ed stirred, and called out, ¡°What¡¯s that pudding? You want some gum?¡±

    ¡°I! WANT! MOM!¡± The toddler tirade tore through the night, setting off a series of wails from Lilywyn that startled Ed. He yelped, his psychic powers instinctually activating near him, rumbling the bed stand, rocking the chair and the knife hidden under the bed. The knife moved as if alive. Knocked into the air by the force of Ed¡¯s mind blast it barrelled its way towards the toddler. Ed¡¯s eyes couldn¡¯t see the danger, but little Gwen¡¯s eyes went wide as knife and flesh met at an unfortunate angle. Steel pierced skin and the girl screamed in horror, as she saw life blood pour out of a body and onto the ground. With a thump Oz¡¯s bloodied form fell to the floor, he had jumped in front of the knife, saving little Gwen. The knife had pierced him, sticking into his heart, and he wallowed in a puddle of blood as the shouts and screams of Ed¡¯s family filled the night.

 Chapter 16: A Medicinal Carol

    Oz put his hand over his chest and traced the scar line, it had been two years since that day. It was a constant reminder. Do it well, or not at all. His five-year-old mind was not capable of higher adult processes, but this one. This one thought was powerful, there was more behind it than just this failed assassination, it was backed by a nebulous urging from deep within himself. That day was particularly memorable for another reason, that was the day they discovered his talent ¡ª or lack of talent to be more precise. The warm afternoon breeze gently touched his skin. He closed his eyes and soaked in the memories.

    Where the prick did the knife come from?! Ashes! Ashes! Ed jumped out of bed, the shock wiping all tiredness from his eyes and grabbed Oz in his arms and dashed down the stairs ¡ª avoiding his screaming daughter ¡ª and shouted, ¡°Baby! Stay with the girls, I¡¯m going to the apothecary!¡± Edna shouted something back at him, but Ed was too busy crushing blood clotting pills into the boy''s wound to hear what she said. He jumped over the last steps and landed heavily, regained his bearings and ran. He reached blindly to the coat rack as he sped out the door, grabbing what he thought was his leather jacket.

    He cursed under his breath. Damn! The knife is in the heart!

    The low-grade healing pills Ed had could only go so far, it was dangerous to feed pills to non-cultivators. He looked down at the boys lolling unconcious head. Oz''s form was limp and his body was getting cold. He needed a professional and there was only one man in town he trusted... somewhat. Ed dashed through the rain, the cracks of thunder illuminating his form as he ran through the Victorian style town. Puddles and rocks made his sprint down the cobblestone road painful and perilous, but he didn''t even notice the cuts on his feet. After a couple twists and turns Ed sped down a narrow alley, his bare feet loudly sloshing on the muddy street and echoing off the buildings. He frowned, looking a round with anxiety as the rain poured down. He stopped and turned into a dilapidated doorway with a faded and worn-down sign, it read: Marley And Friends, Stay in the Black!

    His wet feet tramped on the wooden floor, the door was unlocked, he opened it quietly. A small glowing orb was suspended in the centre of the room, casting a dim light, barely illuminating shelves piled high with books and a random assortment of goods. It looked more like an office, or a bookstore than a healthcare centre. The shop used to be a money lending business, until the owner ¡ª Jacob Marley ¡ª passed away due to some undisclosed illness. His good friend Ebenezer, took over the shop and turned it into an Apothecary Hut ¡ª keeping the old name in honor of his friend. Ebenezer Black was his full name, a dropout from the sect. Apparently, he was once a top Alchemist, but had lost his license because of some¡­ shady reasons. His cultivation was also not that impressive, Lieutenant Grade. But he had a peculiar plant-based cultivation method that extended his lifespan, he was thought to be well over 800 years old, but the unfortunate side-effect of this method is that he looked a bit more like a tree every year. It was rumored that if he didn¡¯t advance his power he would eventually turn into a tree, a rumor that seemed validated by his peculiar ingredient orders and constant experimenting and the strange screams that drifted from his shop in the wee hours of the evening.

    ¡°Ebenezer are you in?! My boy! He needs help!¡± Ed¡¯s frantic cries resulted in the thrashing of papers and bottles as a spindly figure stumbled into the shop floor from a back room. Ebenezer was a strange looking man. His fingers abnormally long and knobbed. His face long and narrow and body thin and slight. All his skin had a weird wooden varnish to it and his face resembled a wizened oak tree. A long patchy goatee and spectacles contrasted with his tousled hair. He wore a patchy looking robe with a hood, a loose fitting shirt and leotards for pants. The colours of his clothes barely discernable in the dim light. No shoes and his big toe poked out of the stocking on his right foot. It was the outfit of a man who was perpetually tired and his face looked the part. The man''s face was wrinkly and droopy, his eyes almost narrow slits. Seeing the knife in the boy¡¯s chest Ebenezer¡¯s eyes went wide, he rushed forward and took Oz, placing him on a table near the back of the room.

    "Bloody hell, I only just fixed him up a couple days ago," the old apothecary mumbled with irritation as he cracked his knuckles.

    Ebenezer pulled a small bag of rocks from his pocket and placed them under Oz''s nose.

    "This''ll make sure he doesn''t wake up..."

    Ed''s face was confused, "Git out... why''s he need to ¡ª"

    Without pausing, Ebenezer ripped the knife from Oz''s chest ¡ª blood spurting up from the reopened wound ¡ª Ebenezer shoved a hand directly into the chest cavity. His eyes narrowed. Then taking both hands he pried open the boy''s chest cavity with a sickening crunch. Ed shouted. Ebenezer ignored him and quickly pulled a strange vial from his pocket and poured a sticky green liquid directly onto Oz¡¯s heart, massaging the fluid in and withdrawing his hand when the wound closed up automatically, the skin rapidly being knit together before their eyes. Both men heaved a sigh of relief as the Oz¡¯s breathing returned to normal. Ed eyed the strange liquid with interest, your average healing pill was typically too potent for a toddler, feeding even the lowest grade healing pill to a child could result in death. What strange stuff this guy¡¯s got¡­ After taking Oz¡¯s vital signs and mumbling to himself, the old apothecary had wobbled around and was about to go back to wherever he came from when Ed spoke.

    ¡°Eb, since I gotcha here, want to take a look at this boy¡¯s talent for me? My Bloodreader ain¡¯t the latest model, it¡¯s not so good with telling potential.¡± Ed casually tossed a coin to the old man.

    Ebenezer frowned at the coin, bit it and stowed it away. He looked expectantly at Ed. Ed grunted a bit and tossed another ducat over. Ebenezer frowned again and pocketed that one too. Ed huffed in anger and tossed another one over -¡ª it too disappeared into Ebenezer¡¯s wallet.

    ¡°Dammit you old coot! You robbin¡¯ me blind?!¡±

    A wheezy and nasally laugh sounded out. Ebenezer simply pointed to the empty poultice vial and the bloody knife on the table and shined his two fingers together. Ed groaned and peered closely at the vial and noticed a price tag. He took a glance at the tag on the vial, his eyes bulged.

    ¡°Prick me old man! You damn snake oil swindler! 10 ducats for a healing poultice?! That¡¯s robbery old man¡­ don¡¯t you have a soul?¡± Ed¡¯s last comment came out as a whimper.

    Ebenezer¡¯s nasally voice replied, ¡°Ducats is ducats.¡±

    ¡°Ya damn scrooge,¡± Ed hissed and grabbed a handful of gold coins from his jacket pocket. Without a word he tossed the ducats casually ¡ª letting them go wild in the air. Ebenezer¡¯s eyes glinted and his hands moved like a professional boxer, jabbing each coin and stuffing it in his pocket. Ebenezer smiled warmly, his face resembling a grinning oak tree, ¡°Now, what¡¯ll it be, old chum?¡±

    ¡°Pah! I¡¯d be amazed if you had a friend in the world.¡±

    ¡°I just made ten more friends today: Ducat 1, Ducat 2, Ducat 3 ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright you creep. How much to check his potential?¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ for such a forthright customer as yourself, a small fee of 20 ducats.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Damn man¡­ I¡¯ll just borrow one from someone in the sect tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Hehehe! If you want inferior results go ahead, my Bloodreader provides the most accurate grading in all the Kingdoms and its talent reading is unsurpassed.¡± Ebenezer¡¯s face beamed proudly, his face went harsh and he pointed at the sign dangling by the entrance, ¡°See that there?! The price is fixed, 20 ducats or not at all, I¡¯m no swindler¡­ every penny earned is a penny damn well earned.¡±

    ¡°How witty.¡±

    ¡°Get out damn Psycher! Nobody asked your opinion!¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine¡­ here,¡± Ed wearily tossed a small bag of coin over that clinked as Ebenezer caught it. The stingy man unwrapped the bag and smelled the money, ¡°One of these ducats weighs half as much as the others¡­ it¡¯s Soviet currency isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Oh? I don¡¯t know!¡±

    Ebenezer fished into the bag and pulled out a notably smaller ducat, he looked at Ed with venom, ¡°You swindler! You thought I wouldn¡¯t know the smell of gold? What am I?! Some colour-blind dog!¡±

    ¡°Here, here, stay calm Eb, I didn¡¯t know. Have another.¡± Ed tossed another ducat, a full ducat, over. Ebenezer smiled and tossed back the Soviet coin. Ed looked confused at the display of generosity.

    ¡°I don¡¯t take more than the listed price, ever! Good old Star-Spangled monies¡­ only the best coins minted in the past hundred years!¡± Ebenezer looked longingly at the gold Ed had tossed him and kissed the coin before putting it in the bag. He grinned lovingly at Ed and bowed, ¡°Thank you for your business sir, I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    Ed¡¯s face was wrinkled in confusion as Ebenezer walked out of the room. The surprise only grew when he returned pushing a massive steel dome with four wheels. The bizarre object went up to Ebenezer¡¯s waist and had a strange assortment of knobs and a large glass screen on the front. Ebenezer twisted a knob and a panel popped open, revealing a hose with a needle on the end. He grabbed the hose and stabbed it into Oz¡¯s arm in one fluid motion. Nothing happened. Ed snickered. Ebenezer raged.

    ¡°Horse skin! I forgot to turn the damn thing on!¡± He flicked a switch and the machine hummed to life, whistling and whirring like an old steam engine. A strange yellow and green smoke puffed out of the back of the machine. It smelled... dangerous. Ed stepped a little further from the machine. The screen lit up and small hourglass started rolling while the machine beeped monotonously. Ebenezer withdrew the needle, stood back and waited. Ed started at the rotating hourglass with wonder.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen that before¡­¡±

    ¡°I programmed it in, makes the wait a little more bearable.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm, I agree, something to look at is always nice.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of things that look nice... You can¡¯t get enough of my shop can you eh? Second trip this month! Such an unlucky kid¡­ maybe I¡¯ll get jinxed¡­¡± Ebenezer¡¯s eyes darted nervously to Oz¡¯s still form.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Shut up dammit, it¡¯s not the boy¡¯s fault he had his arm torn off!¡±

    ¡°Hell Ed, I didn¡¯t even mention the arm yet¡­ damn disgusting stuff¡­ we almost lost him when you brought him in a few days ago ¡ª I panicked tonight ¡ª thought all my hard work would be undone.¡±

    ¡°Just a damn unlucky kid¡­¡± Ed hugged himself, his black leather jacket warming his wet and cold body. It was indeed his leather jacket that he had snagged on his way out the door. But his bottom half wasn''t so lucky, he was only wearing a pair of rough boxers. Ed cast a sidelong glance at Ebenezer¡­ the damn weirdo didn¡¯t even notice Ed was nearly butt-naked in here. Ed stared at the ceiling. Ebenezer stared at the floor and fiddled with his fingers. The beeping of the machine making the silence uncomfortable. Ebenezer broke the quiet.

    ¡°Say Ed, what model of Bloodreader do you have?¡±

    ¡°I have the X Alpha.¡±

    Ebenezer sputtered, ¡°That¡¯s the first mobile model!¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is.¡±

    ¡°Came out 200 years ago?¡±

    ¡°I bought the first one ever sold.¡±

    ¡°Get out?!¡±

    ¡°Nah, I really did.¡±

    ¡°How much you want for it?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t part with the old gal for the world.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s 10 Spirit Stones sound?¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    The men shook and exchanged a small sack and an old cellphone.

    ¡°Hehehe¡­ excellent.¡±

    ¡°No problem Ebbie, I got another one if you want it.¡±

    ¡°YOU HAVE TWO? What were they on sale?¡±

    Before Ed could respond the machine beeped and bopped with uncanny joy, its metallic voice intoned. ¡°Congratulations human overlord! Your overall talent rating is Abysmal, you have no talent for cultivation! May your enemies fear and tremble before you, the worlds shake in your wake!¡±

    ¡°What the prick?¡± Ed exclaimed in anger.

    ¡°Uh¡­ changing the default message for differing grades was considered¡­ offensive¡­ so we just keep it the same for everyone¡­ it only sounds really bad at moments like ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not that, that!¡± Ed pointed at the screen in fury.

    Ebenezer grimaced when he saw the screen, then his eyes went wide. ¡°Hot damn.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>Overall Potential

    </td>

    <td>Abysmal</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>Potential Categories</td>

    <td>Potential Rating</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Abnormal Energies</td>

    <td>None</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Atmospheric Energy Affinity</td>

    <td>Abysmal</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Psychic Potential</td>

    <td>Abysmal</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Elemental Affinity</td>

    <td>None</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>IQ Potential</td>

    <td>Abnormal???</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Longevity</td>

    <td>Diminished</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Muscular Potential</td>

    <td>Average</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Soulish Affinity</td>

    <td>Abysmal???</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Current Vigour</td>

    <td>Extremely Weak [Potential Limited???]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Current Vitality</td>

    <td>Average [Potential limited???]</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Ebenezer looked thoughtful and provided the full explanation, ¡°So he has no non-standard powers¡­ no potential for Magery¡­ no psychic potential¡­ no affinity with any element¡­ that¡¯s really rare ¡ª in a bad way ¡ª but still rare. He¡¯s smart for his age¡­ but seems like it will balance out when he¡¯s older¡­ oh dear¡­ the low life span is a little bit of a doozy, diminished means something like 50¡¯s? Oh, but he has no arm, so that¡¯s probably why the machine reads it like that. He¡¯ll probably have a normal lifespan¡­ eh? He has no arm?! Totally forgot about that¡­ should have input that in the machine. Muscular potential¡­ he¡¯ll be about as strong as everyone else¡­ oh my¡­ typically we all have a bit of Soulish Affinity, it¡¯s tied with mental cognition after all¡­ his thinking processes appear to be currently impaired? A little odd considering his apparently abnormal cognitive faculties¡­ very odd. But this,¡± Ebenezer gestured at the screen, ¡°This is the bad one¡­ not even average vigour? Sad¡­ but at least his lifespan won¡¯t be affected by his lack of vitality¡­ I¡¯ve never heard of average Muscular Potential and weak vigour¡­ it seems¡­ impossible. What a rare case.¡±

    "What does it all mean?"

    "The typical mortal will score Average on everything, maybe a couple Terribles or Sub-pars, then as they transition into becoming a cultivator they''ll hit a ceiling ¡ª and be stuck at the Understudy Grade. Your boy''s probably not breaking Ensign Grade."

    Ed felt like the room was spinning, he reached out his hand and steadied himself on Ebenezer''s Bloodreader ¡°¡­So is the machine accurate?¡± Ed began slowly and carefully.

    ¡°Completely¡­ this boy is destined for nothing¡­ Even if you get him the best prosthetic arm money can buy, he has no elemental affinity¡­ so it will never be fully functional.¡± Ebenezer took a sidelong glance at Oz¡¯s unblemished skin, ¡°He¡¯ll make a great house husband, he looks like he¡¯ll become a handsome lad at least. Teach him how to cook and seduce women and he might find himself with a great life!¡±

    ¡°¡­How¡­ How can you even suggest that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s that or probably die young¡­ I doubt he¡¯ll live too long. You see¡­ to be Abysmal in one category is not uncommon, nor harmful. Sometimes it¡¯s good! Prevents the body from being out of sorts. If you have amazing talent in all areas, you¡¯ll probably die young, your body all confused and contorted by the competing energies¡­ the inverse has the same result. He could live a full life, if he spends a lot of money and gets all the herbs necessary to balance out his body in someway. But it won¡¯t be cheap.¡±

    Ed rubbed his bald head so harshly that he winced in pain, ¡°This can¡¯t be real¡­ this poor boy.¡±

    ¡°I would recommend delaying before sending him to school ¡ª so he can build up some muscle. He¡¯ll probably get bullied¡­ maybe hire a private tutor? Hide him somewhere¡­ maybe in the basement.¡± Ebenezer half-heartedly finished. Ed stared daggers at the old medicine man, rage evident in his eyes.

    ¡°Do not speak of my son that way ever again.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You don¡¯t scare me, you damn shopkeeper,¡± Ebenezer turned around to walk away and then let out a choking sound when Ed levitated him and everything else in the room with his mind. Ed turned the man around to face him¡­ fear plastered on his face, Ebenezer screeched, ¡°You advanced?!¡±

    ¡°Major Grade.¡± Ed showed pearly whites in the dim firelight, ¡°I have a couple powerful sponsors¡­ no one would blink if I killed you.

    ¡°Ed put me down! I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m just an apothecary!¡±

    ¡°Damn viper, I know you could probably kill me if you tried.¡±

    Ebenezer nodded furiously but the fear and panic did not leave his voice, ¡°Yes, I can! But do you know the cost in potions?! I¡¯d be bankrupt! Put me down so we can talk like reasonable men!¡±

    Ed put down the old apothecary and dusted off his shoulders and straightened his clothes. That damn McCarthy¡¯s rubbin¡¯ off on me¡­ Ed stepped back and asked a question through clenched teeth, ¡°Is there any cure?¡±

    Ebenezer thought for a moment, twisting his scraggly beard and pulling on and off his patchwork hood with the other hand. He paused, murmured and continued his bizarre ritual. Ed waited. Ebenezer slowly said, ¡°Cure is not the word¡­ he¡¯s not technically sick¡­ it would be impossible to increase his Magery, Psychic or Elemental Affinity without greatly harming his body. So, the first stage is to strengthen his body, then he can pick¡­ something¡­ we can focus on. But it won¡¯t be cheap¡­ 10¡¯s of thousands of Spirit Stones to bring up an Abysmal rating to a Terrible¡­ that¡¯s only the increase of one grade¡­ Sub-Par would be the next after that¡­ I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s possible to even get him to Average¡­ But we shall see.¡± He smiled wickedly, ¡°If you have the money.¡±

    Ed winced and was about to retort when Ebenezer raised a hand and said, ¡°I am the best at using medicines, pills and poultices to modify the body. Such things always produce an inferior result to actual potential, surgery and training. But, your boy has no potential and is too weak to train, the only other option is surgery¡­ and that kind of barbaric practice of swapping organs is only done by Devilish Cultivators and Witches.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll just go to the Head of Alchemy instead, I¡¯m sure he won¡¯t charge me an arm and a leg.¡±

    ¡°Eleazer does not study this branch of Medicine ¡ª since he deals only with improving geniuses ¡ª no one in the sect has ¡®potential¡¯ problems, or you end up outside the sect¡­ like myself.¡± Ebenezer frowned at that last bit and touched his woodish face, a look of sadness momentarily crossing his face. Ed did a double take, he¡¯d never seen such a¡­ human expression on Ebenezer¡¯s face. He blinked. The soft forlorn expression had been replaced by a money grubbing sneer. He sighed.

    ¡°What¡¯s the price?¡±

    Ebenezer¡¯s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, ¡°My dear friend, let us not speak of prices and finances ¡ª when it comes to the life of a poor orphan ¡ª¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not orphaned.¡±

    ¡°¡ª Formerly orphaned boy. Rather, let us think of our common humanity! I am human, you are human, he is human¡­ we¡¯re all human.¡± Ebenezer gestured expansively, his robes flapping ridiculously as he moved.

    ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡±

    Ebenezer sighed and wrapped an arm around Ed, ¡°This is no rabies shot. We¡¯re in this for the long haul my friend, and I might bankrupt myself procuring items¡­ and if you back out without reimbursing me¡­ all of this precious time (and resources) will be for naught. And my time is limited.¡±

    They both looked at a wooden model of the human body in the corner.

    Ebenezer continued, all signs of mirth gone from his voice, ¡°Helping your boy will be a full-time job. Time is money¡­ much preparation needs to be made. I might need to buy things suddenly ¡ª as they become available on the market ¡ª and bill you later¡­ I can¡¯t have you abandoning me partway through.¡±

    ¡°Oh, just spit it out!¡±

    ¡°Contract. You need to sign a contract.¡±

    ¡°Sure, no problem.¡±

    ¡°With your house and pension as guarantee.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡± Ed hesitated. Did he trust this old codger with such a dilapidated deal, one that clearly was not tilted in his favor¡­ it was insane! Give this crazy alchemist the power to just give him any random bill ¡ª and if that bill should sink Ed ¡ª let him take the house and his damn pension. Bloody ungrateful elf-skin, what a pricking knave! But Oz¡­ he couldn¡¯t explain why, but he loved this boy. Maybe he felt a connection, Ed was missing his left hand and Oz his left arm, they were kindred souls in an sense. Whatever the reason, at first sight he wanted to adopt him, there was never a doubt in his mind and with each passing moment that affection grew stronger ¡ª as if they had been close friends a long time ago. But this kind of price¡­

    ¡°Now Ed¡­ I see that you are worried about this contract, so tell you what. I¡¯ll increase your power too ¡ª at a discount rate ¡ª for a small fee...¡±

    ¡°What did you say?!¡± Ed seized the old man with his right hand and pulled him close. Ebenezer simply smiled, as if he was in the most comfortable position in the world.

    ¡°I. Can. Increase. Your. Power.¡±

    ¡°HOW?!¡± His eyes narrowed, ¡°Is there going to be another ridiculous price?¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ no¡­ not at all. Psychic Cultivation is not too hard to increase, but I simply need you to do a favor for me.¡±

    Ed cocked an eyebrow, ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°In the contract, I will add a clause.¡±

    ¡°Just spit it out!¡±

    Ebenezer grinned like a thistle, ¡°Kill Deloris for me, the Head of the Deacon House. She has an item in her possession¡­ an item that I ¡ª no we ¡ª all need.¡±

    Ed dropped Ebenezer with a plunk and backed away, ¡°You¡¯re mad¡­ everyone knows that McCarthy personally commissioned her¡­ He personally signed her commendation! Do you know how important she is in his Research Department? There are even rumors¡­¡± Ed trailed off, fear gripped him and he felt pain in his left hand, the hand that was no longer there.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly¡­ Deloris spread those rumors to solidify her control over the Deacons.¡± Ebenezer huffed angrily, rubbing his butt where Ed had dropped him on the floor. ¡°You of all people, what working close with McCarthy these past couple of years, you should know he¡¯d never marry again.¡±

    Ed¡¯s eyes widened, ¡°What the prick is up with you man, how do you know all this?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°It ain¡¯t matter he says?! I ain¡¯t got a death wish knave!¡±

    ¡°Whenever you¡¯re mad you slip into the oddest of dialects¡­¡± Ebenezer dusted himself off, his eyes held a mischievous yet unfathomable glint, ¡°I want her Commendation Certificate, I want the paper that has McCarthy¡¯s signature. I need it for¡­ certain plans.¡±

    ¡°No deal. No deal. I won¡¯t conspirisize ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Conspire.¡±

    ¡°Whatever! Whatever it is, I won¡¯t do it, for any price!¡± Ed turned and started walking towards the door, he called out over his shoulder, ¡°I¡¯ll be back for the boy in the morning!¡±

    ¡°You are in Major Grade correct? I can make you jump to Commander Grade.¡±

    Ed stopped at the door. He turned around. Ebenezer smiled.

 Chapter 17: The Things Men Do In Darkness

    ¡°Now Ed, as per our agreement¡­ I can wait ten years¡­ no more¡­ no less. Deloris must be dead within that timeframe.¡± The old apothecary wagged his finger at Ed as if Ed were a toddler.

    Ed was nonplussed, but compliant, ¡°Alright, alright.¡±

    ¡°Now ten years may seem like a long time ¡ª¡±

    ¡°GIT A MOVE ON DAMMIT!¡±

    Ebenezer squinted at Ed¡¯s sudden outburst, ¡°Why so loud?¡±

    ¡°Yer so distracted and it¡¯s making me so damn nervous!¡± Sweat glistened on the old Psycher''s scalp, demonstrating the truth of his claim. But the medicine man grinned wickedly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not putting it in yet.¡± Ebenezer¡¯s dusty old hands coiled around a strangely shaped object in the firelight, slathering on grease and oil.

    Ed sighed in relief, ¡°Oh, well I wasn¡¯t ready anyways¡­ I need to prepare my heart.¡±

    Ebenezer looked incredulous, then he shook his head in mock surrender, ¡°I don¡¯t know why you need your heart for this¡­ hang on¡­ Why are you clenching?! This is supposed to be consensual!¡±

    ¡°This is my first time¡­¡±

    ¡°Hmph, well it certainly won¡¯t be the last!¡±

    ¡°We have to do this more times?!¡±

    ¡°Many more¡­ once a month.¡±

    ¡°Prick you!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be doing the pricking thank you¡­ erm¡­ the slicing¡­¡±

    Ebenezer set down the oddly shaped gem and started grinding away at an old scalpel blade, while Ed was strapped down to a table, his fists clenched in fear. Tight black leather strips bound the Psycher to the operating table, which was tilted at an angle slightly shy of 90 degress. Ed grimaced at the annoying sound of metal on metal, but eventually blocked it out by looking around the room idly. They were in the back of the Alchemist¡¯s shop. A much cleaner room than the disorganized storefront. The floor was of cold grey stone and the ceiling of the same. No windows. No external light. No moisture in the air. No decorations or furniture. Everything was bare, save for the operating table and a workbench with all of Ebenezer¡¯s gear ¡ª illuminated by glowing orbs of light that were suspended in the air. Ed found himself staring at the lights, trying to calm himself. He cleared his throat after a moment of contemplation.

    ¡°So, why don¡¯t you use the light bulb? Just get some copper wire, Lightning Bamboo¡­ or something like that¡­ hook it up and wabam!¡±

    Ebenezer stopped grinding his scalpel and lightly blew on it, he turned around and regarded Ed with suspicion. ¡°¡­ What? Do you own shares in a light bulb company? That¡¯s the fifth time you¡¯ve made that comment in the past hour.¡±

    Ed looked to the side sheepishly, Ebenezer rolled his eyes and then continued, ¡°I won''t invest. Even for an esteemed client like yourself. Ducats is ducats, my friend. I¡­ er¡­ um¡­ bought¡­ a stash of Light Gems a few hundred years ago¡­ won¡¯t need more for a couple hundred more years.¡±

    Ed changed the subject, trying to distract himself from the thought of surgery. ¡°When¡¯s Oz gonna wake up?¡±

    ¡°My poultices are number one dear customer, he¡¯ll never wake up!¡±

    ¡°WHAT THE PRICK?!¡± The room reverberated with psychic energy, small fractures forming on the stone tiles. The oddly shaped gem started humming in resonance. Seeing the gem¡¯s bizarre behaviour Ed withdrew his power in shock, ¡°What the prick¡­¡± He said, more softly this time, his voice trailing off.

    Ebenezer rubbed his temples in agitation, ¡°Yes, harm the surgeon! What a great idea!¡± He looked over to the wall and his eyes bulged, ¡°DAMMIT ED! You cracked by bloody wall! When I said the boy would never wake up, I mean he won¡¯t wake up until I administer the antidote, not that he¡¯s dead!¡± Ebenezer started hopping with fury, abandoning the scalpel on the work bench, he frolicked to the wall with rage. He peered at the cracks and got on his knees in a fluster, ¡°My poor wall¡­ Do see this Ed?¡± Ebenezer¡¯s head clicked as it turned to Ed with an unnatural motion.

    ¡°Pardon?¡± Ed was a little frightened, Ebenezer¡¯s eyes were wide with madness.

    ¡°Do you see it?!¡±

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°THERE¡¯S MONEY DRIPPING FROM THE WALLS!"

    Ed stared at him blankly, he tried to speak but Ebenezer interrupted him, "Everything is money!¡±

    Ed scoffed, ¡°You¡¯re mad! There¡¯s no money there!¡±

    ¡°BLIND! See these orbs of light, they¡¯re just floating gold coins that will disappear soon. Never to return. See this cement holding the stone together? It¡¯s a thin layer of gold, keeping the wall together with love! See these slabs of stone?! They¡¯re bundles of cash tied together! Everything is money!¡±

    Ed blinked, then huffed, ¡°¡­I see.¡±

    Ebenezer double facepalmed, he got up and surged towards Ed, his grainy woodish face close to the old Psycher. He extended his hands and rubbed them together, ¡°Pay me or get out.¡±

    Ed sighed in exasperation, ¡°How much?¡±

    ¡°1000 ducats, 900 for emotional trauma.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You''re joking."

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a joke. I never joke about money. You saw the gem right? I insert it into your brain and it grows and bonds with your brain¡­ it imitates the structure of your brain¡­ adding additional capacity to your psychosis reserves. It¡¯s like having a second brain, you won¡¯t get it, unless you pay!¡± Ebenezer spat every word with venom, his face contorted with anger.

    Ed stared at the gem. He needed the power, this was one fight he couldn''t afford to have. He mulled over the price, then sighed, ¡°Damn you.¡± Ed opened his pocket with his mind and floated a sack of coins to Ebenezer¡¯s face.

    The old man smiled, a smile surpassing all smiles. All anger gone, ¡°Thank you dear customer, now let me go wash my hands.¡±

    As Ebenezer tottered off Ed regarded the strangely shaped ¡°gem¡± for a second time and reached for it with his mind. The gem reacted¡­ and¡­ it squirmed? Light Untold¡­ what is this thing? His eyes followed the old apothecary¡¯s form as it exited the room. When Ebenezer returned Ed shot him a look. Ebenezer smiled, ¡°You have a question dear customer?¡±

    ¡°So how does this ¡®thing¡¯ work exactly¡­¡± Ed gestured to the odd gem with his head, his baldness shimmering in the dull light.

    ¡°This¡­ creature¡­ is a higher lifeform with Psychic capabilities.¡±

    ¡°Creature¡­ it¡¯s a creature now¡­ I thought it was a ¡¯gem¡¯.¡±

    ¡°¡¯Gem¡¯ is a relative term,¡± Ebenezer waved his hands dismissively.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s not.¡±

    ¡°Whatever, despite it¡¯s small size, it has roughly the same amount of Psychic power and potential as your average teenager¡­ it¡¯s incredibly dense and almost at full maturity ¡ª meaning it now has the strength of an Understudy Grade Psyker ¡ª but no sentience.¡± Ebenezer took the creature in his hands and ran his oddly textured finger over it. When it matures, it develops its own ego and as a result starts spending the built-up psychosis to maintain its sentience¡­ but due to the fact that it lacks a true body, it¡¯s unable to produce its own psychosis. So to stay ''alive'', it hunts creatures with higher cranial capacity, devouring their brains, to get their psychosis reserves¡­ marvelous little thing isn¡¯t it? I have a whole farm of these things in the basement.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Wait¡­ you¡¯re grafting a brain eater?¡± Ed let the question hang.

    Ebenezer nonchalantly nodded.

    ¡°¡­ Into my brain?¡±

    Ebenezer nodded, swirling a vial of liquid in his hand.

    The air around Ed reverberated dangerously, ¡°¡­ Get me out of this chair.¡±

    Ebenezer shoved a finger over Ed¡¯s lips and softly shushed, like a mother comforting a small babe. He then stroked Ed¡¯s beautiful bald head a couple times and said, ¡°Dear customer, the contract is already signed and the procedure is 100% safe! You see, this creature won¡¯t gain full sentience until it grows its cortex and nervous system. Right now, it¡¯s just an oddly shaped gem ¡ª¡± Ed¡¯s eyes gave a silent protest that Ebenezer ignored ¡°¡ª That is on the verge of turning into truly sentient life. Every month ¡ª for about a year ¡ª you come back here for an inspection. I snip it every month and eventually it will simply graft into your brain ¡ª bonding with your cortex and nerves.¡±

    Ed paused and thought of the sticky sweet allure of power, he thought of his family, he thought of Oz, he thought of the monster that took his hand. He needed power, he needed it badly. He looked at Ebenezer¡¯s glimmering eyes and softly asked, ¡°Has it ever failed?¡±

    ¡°Never, now drink this potion.¡± Ebenezer shoved the vial of ¡ª whatever he had been swirling ¡ª to Ed¡¯s lips. Ed opened his mouth and allowed Ebenezer to pour the sticky sweet substance into his mouth. Ed swallowed. Soon the black began to swallow his vision, he felt incredibly sleepy. But then he heard something that made his rage bubble, he clawed trying to get a swipe in. He tried to warp the psychosis in his brain, but it slipped through his fingers like an eel. As he faded into the black, he cursed Ebenezer with all his might. That final sentence hounding him and making his heart clench with wrath. The apothecary¡¯s wheezy and nasally voice, following him into the dark.

    ¡°It¡¯s never succeeded either.¡±

    Ed passed out. Ebenezer chuckled to himself and then put a steel glove on his hand. After mumbling something under his breath a flame appeared in his hand. Taking his surgical instruments, he ran them through the flame and then blew out the fire nervously ¡ª as if afraid it would devour him whole. As the flame vanished in a puff of smoke, he pulled at a string that was wrapped around his neck, bringing the necklace up to the light. On the end of the string was a solid gold ducat, a shining glimmering coin, filled with strange designs and foreign script ¡ª that pulsed with an odd energy. Ebenezer kissed the coin, sloppily and lovingly. He put the necklace back into his shirt. Rubbed a strange gel onto Ed¡¯s skull and began his delicate work, humming as he went.

    As the operation was proceeding, in the next room, Oz¡¯s sleeping form was tossing and turning. Covered in sweat. The small boy was reliving the same memory over and over again. Trapped in what seemed to be an endless dream, he recalled many things, things that haunted him and confused him. Things too complex for his waking mind to process but were potent in the land of dreams.

    He remembered it, crystal clear. His eyes looking at a body that was altogether alien to him, his head seemed to be rolling along a cold stone floor and then finally touching a strange book. When his head had lightly brushed the book, words seemed to swarm to his inner self. His eyes beheld a strange phrase, he understood it. He didn¡¯t know what it was that he understood, but he knew that he understood. As the black claimed his sight, more words from the book stormed into his mind, then one phrase grew to enormity and blocked out every other idea. It screamed in an inaudible whisper, dominating his unconscious mind. He felt something snap inside him and then reconnect. The phrase penetrating and burning into his very self, his very being ¡ª branded, changed and transformed.

    Oportet vos nasci denuo.

    Fading.

    Oportet vos nasci denuo.

    It began fading.

    Oportet vos nasci denuo.

    Fading.

    Oportet... vos... na ¡ª

    It was gone. All was black, then. Something strange happened. In a box, on a makeshift island, in a sect. There was a body, with a heavy cloth kimono and a light blue blanket. The box ¡ª and all its contents ¡ª was still. But then, movement. The corpse wriggled and squirmed. It contorted and convulsed, jerking around in the box violently. Then all was still.

    Blink, blink.

    The corpses'' eyes opened and closed, but whether opened or closed, all was darkness. The corpse couldn''t recall how it got there or who it was, as if on cue its mind was rocked by a flood of information. Then pain, unbearable pain. His mind shouted at him in anguish, like it was a balloon being stuffed to the point of bursting. The corpse shouted and screamed. Its voice getting higher and higher and higher. It''s limbs shrinking, like a deflating ballon and then the torso. Then the head. The corpses scraggly beard receded into it''s face, it''s hair was sucked back into its scalp ¡ª leaving soft fuzz in its wake. The once looselt fitting kimono now dwarfed the now tiny and infantile body that lay within.

    The pain stopped.

    Blink. Blink.

    He tried to lift his small hands to his head, but a heavy cloth was holding his arms down. He was too weak to even lift it. He lay there. Unable to process what was going on or where he was. Fear started to grip him, but soon fear was eclipsed by another desire. A desire even more base, even more primal.

    Thirst.

    Drip, drip.

    Water dripped down. Taunting him. Mocking him. Laughing at him. His throat burned with fire and his muscles felt weak and helpless.

    The dark surrounded him.

    He wanted that water. Again, he felt his mind assaulted ¡ª he was powerless to resist and unable to cry out ¡ª like a turkey, hunted, then killed, then stuffed beyond capacity, then baked ¡ª all the while being forced to watch. Concepts, words and ideas flooded in. But, his mind could not grasp them. It could not comprehend. Ideas flowed through it like water through a sieve. He was an observer in his own mind. A mass, a torrent, a downpour of information streamed in his mind. But he could not process it. When the assault of knowledge finished he felt mental pain. Then a dry pain. His throat was parched. The fire had turned to a blazing inferno of desire.

    Thirst. Thirst. Thirst.

    Over and over, drops of water, so near, yet so far.. He wanted that wet stuff. He needed it. How to ask¡­ Ask? What is ask? As if on instinct a small cry escaped him. The dry rasping of sobbing and the whine of a baby. The heavy cloth pinning him down ¡ª stifling his cries. He struggled. Kicking his little legs and flailing his small hands. The cloth went into his mouth. He panicked.

    Air! Air! Air!

    The baby gulped, struggling to breathe through the cloth over its face. He felt his veins beginning to bulge as he choked. His frightened eyes saw something. A blue light seemed to be burst through little holes in the fabric that covered its body. The light illuminated the small sobbing form and filled the baby with warmth ¡ª a warmth that chased away thirst and weariness. The sobbing stopped. The cloth fell out of his mouth. He could breath again. He stared at the light, feeling an embrace, a warm embrace.

    Little eyes darted about, trying to see where the light was coming from. Tiny hands gripped old patchwork fabric and pulled down. Slowly, the cloth covering the baby was being pulled out of the way. When tired the baby would rest, then rejuvenated it would resume the quest. Soon a small head peeked out from behind a patchwork kimono and looked at the source of the blue light. The baby''s eyes lit up. There, crumpled in a pile at the edge of the wooden box that contained the baby, was a shimmering blue blanket.

    The baby wanted the blanket, wanted to be close to it. The baby wanted that warmth again. That feeling of fullness and energy. Then as if responding to the baby¡¯s desire, the warm light of the blanket seemed to peel off and ebb its way into the little baby. When the light touched the baby it softly caressed the baby¡¯s face as if it was a hand. The baby giggled in the dark. Soft peals of childish laughter echoing in the small enclosed space. The light seemed to speak to the baby, but the baby couldn¡¯t respond. After all, it was still a baby.

    Hunger.

    The baby thought with all its might. A little bit of light peeled off the blanket and entered into the baby. The baby felt full and laughed. Time passed again.

    Thirst.

    The blanket responded.

    The cycle continued, for days, weeks, even months. Soon, a year and a half had passed in the small wooden box. The blanket¡¯s light had now become dimmer but was still strong. The baby¡¯s mind had grown a lot.

    Thirsty!

    The blanket sent its light to the baby and playfully danced around it bringing choruses of laughter from the baby. The light moved away from the baby, the baby crawled after the light, chasing it around the small box. Soon the light entered the baby. The blanket spoke to the baby¡¯s mind.

    Was it good?

    Good!

    The picture of a smiling woman filled the baby¡¯s mind. She was playful and slender, perhaps too thin in some places. Her skin was smooth and soft but dotted with the imperfections that come about from spending too much time in the sun. She wore a blue summer dress and sported blue slippers. She was white and freckled, auburn hair in loose curls framed green eyes and a strawberry shaped head. She wasn¡¯t elegant, but she was beautiful. Dimples on each cheek and slightly crooked teeth gave her radiant smile an inexplicable charm.

    Can you talk out loud for me?

    Talky! Talk!

    Use your mouth! The blanket sent over a picture of lips and a tongue moving.

    No!

    A mental sigh touched the baby. Why not?

    No!

    The auburn girl flashed again in the baby¡¯s mind and the blanket softly whispered to the baby. Some things never change. She smiled. A sad smile, a forlorn smile. I didn¡¯t dream of meeting you again¡­ but here we are¡­ life is too amazing. The sad smile vanished from the auburn girl. She poised like a cat about to pounce in the baby''s mind. I¡¯m gonna getchya! A mischievous giggle entered the baby¡¯s mind, the child playfully screamed as light swarmed off the blanket and started chasing the baby as it tried to crawl away. Tendrils of light tickled the baby and laughter turned to ear-piercing screams of joy.

 Chapter 18: A Final Farewell

    Time passed again. As the baby grew, the light in the blanket shrank. Its warmth faded. Three years came and went in the little wooden box. Sun turned to cloud. Cloud to rain. Autumn to snow and snow to spring. Occassionally the giggles and laughs of a child could be heard. Some students from the Sect of Sagacity swore the woods were haunted. McCarthy himself had inspected, but found nothing.

    On a particular day of this third year, a little toddler bustled about on his knees, shovelling dirt with his hands. His hair black. His eyes brown and his body jiggly with baby fat. The small boy was scooping dirt with an almost religious fervour. Sweat dotted the small figure¡¯s form and soon, after a deep exhale, the child leaned back and stopped digging. The boy turned and looked at the glowing blue blanket.

    Mom!

    I¡¯m not responding to you if you don¡¯t speak out loud.

    ¡°Mom¡­¡±

    How many times have I told you not to call me mom?

    ¡°But you are mom!¡±

    The auburn woman appeared in his mind again, her form somewhat more transparent than before. Her smile tired, but still strong. The blue summer dress and freckles the same as they were so long ago.

    Call me Katherine.

    "Kath ¡ª uhr ¡ª ¡­. Kathur¡­.¡± The toddler struggled over the strange word before exclaiming, ¡°It¡¯s too hard!¡±

    She shook her head. Not as hard as your thick skull.

    ¡°My skull is the normal!¡±

    She giggled. Yes, yes it is. Come on Oz, keep digging.

    ¡°But I¡¯m tired.¡±

    Come on Oz, you can do it! I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!The image of a chugging train on a hill appeared in Oz''s mind.

    The boy swatted the picture away, ¡°I hate it when you say that!¡±

    A mental sigh entered his mind. You spoiled brat, don¡¯t you want to get out of here? See the big wide world?

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡­ Are you serious?

    ¡°I the serious!¡±

    But¡­ you need to get out of here.

    ¡°NO!¡± His fists curled into little balls and he stared defiantly at his blanket.

    If you throw a tantrum, there¡¯s no dinner for you.

    ¡°Mom¡­ that¡¯s not fair!¡±

    Life¡¯s not fair stupid.

    ¡°I not ¡®tupid!¡± A small lip jutted out in the blue light, quivering with righteous indignation. Oz felt like his honor had been slighted, and oh, indeed it had been.

    You¡¯re not?

    ¡°I¡¯M NOT!¡±

    You look the ¡®tupid to me!

    ¡°Don¡¯t make fun of how I talk!¡±

    What are you gunna do tough guy?

    ¡°I¡¯ll get mad at you!¡±

    Oooooo¡­ big scary man. You don¡¯t scare me. You¡¯re so weak you can barely dig.

    ¡°I can dig!¡±

    Pfft! You¡¯re the worst digger in the world.

    ¡°NO! I¡¯m the best!¡±

    Prove it! Dig!

    ¡°I show you!¡± With renewed vigour and fueled by the sanctity of his task, little hands dug and dug and dug. For honor a man of any age would go mad. The auburn girl pursed her lips in his mind and blew him a kiss. Oz stopped digging for a moment as he giggled. She grinned. Then whispered in his mind.

    You can talk to me with your mind now¡­

    Oz wrinkled his nose. Tell me a story!

    Do you want to know about the world outside? The light from the blanket danced over Oz¡¯s form.

    He smiled and nodded.

    She shrugged helplessly at him.Oh, the silent nod has returned¡­ you truly are the same person¡­

    Oz is only Oz!

    Mhmm. Do you remember where we are?

    In a box!Oz grinned at his own brilliance.

    She held back a sigh before patiently stating.Rightnow, we are in a place called the USSR.

    ¡°Ooosur?¡± Oz chewed his lips as he pronounced the letters as a word with difficulty.

    Katherine facepalmed in his mind. You pronounce the letters individually.

    Oz cocked his head to the side. Individually?

    Yes. It means ¡°one at a time¡±.

    Oz grinned with triumph. Ah. So, it¡¯s U S S R?

    ¡­ There¡¯s no need for the long pause between each letter.

    Oz nodded stoically.

    Katherine continued. It stands for The Union of the Star-Spangled Republic. Mostly called the Union.

    Oz remembered that one!

    I¡¯m sure you did! Oz squealed as Katherine rubbed his head with the blanket. She paused to let him settle down and then continued her story. The founder was a mighty cultivator, George Washington, he was one of the most amazing elemental cultivators to ever live. As she mentioned the man, she sent images of what he looked like. The man was tall, strong, imposing and fierce. His hair long and white. A cotton robe billowing and flowing in the wind, dyed shades of blue and white.

    Oz¡¯s eyes lit up while he dug, he loved hearing the stories of the mighty cultivators of old, even if he didn¡¯t know what a cultivator really was. His boyish curiosity was at its peak. What did he cul ¡ª ti ¡ª bate?

    Wood.

    ¡°Did Washington have enemies?¡±

    Ohoho. He had enemies. He and his friends were at war with the USA or the United Soviet Alliance.

    ¡°Oh¡­ Did Washington die?¡±

    Nobody knows what happened to him after the Crossing of the Delaware¡­ he disappeared in an epic battle.

    Katherine sent over the scene of a great battle, cultivators left, right and center engaged in an epic struggle for supremacy. Oz slowed his digging to appreciate the scene.

    A wizard was locked in battle with Washington. Blasts of mana and wooden spikes crossed a field littered with bodies. The wizard scowled at the cultivator and threw out a dozen shining crystals. Everyone panicked at the sight of these crystals. Washington shouted and threw up a bramble wall to protect himself as the wizard blasted the crystals with a mana ray. A greasy figure with a black kimono, dirty hair, brown eyes and a neutral expression tried to intercept the ray but was knocked out of the way ¡ª smoke and fire erupting on his chest. The scene went white with the glow of an explosion. Then, when the brilliant flash of light had subsided, Washington ¡ª and everyone else ¡ª was gone, the only one who remained was the wizard. His clothes were torn and shredded, but upon seeing the success of his "Mana Bombs" he began to cackle wildly with glee. Then the scene. vanished

    Oz sighed, but Katherine continued the story. Left leaderless, the Union almost collapsed, but then a hero emerged. Stonewall Jackson. So nicknamed because of his powerful Earth Cultivation. He was backed by one of the greatest Wizards to ever live¡­ Thomas Alva Edison. And so they fought, on land and sea¡­ for freedom, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And a few other reasons... but you''re to young to know those.

    The boy nodded solemnly. He used to argue with Katherine whenever she said that, it was a losing battle. He had learned from many a defeat.

    Scene after scene flashed by in the little toddler¡¯s mind and every now and then blue light would enter into his body ¡ª erasing all fatigue and nourishing his muscles and growth. The cycle continued for a full hour. Katherine narrated each battle and ensured Oz didn¡¯t grow weak or fatigued. Soon her story came to an end.

    Eventually Stonewall Jackson crushed the USA and a peace was established. The enemy general, Erwin Rommel, surrendered and signed an armistice. To prevent war from breaking out again, both parties nominated a mutual friend ¡ª Winston Churchill ¡ª to become the supreme ruler of the world. Today he is ¡ª

    Oz interrupted the story with a question. Who¡¯s the USA again?

    Oh, sorry, I forgot. Wait, didn¡¯t I tell you?

    ¡°Oz forgot.¡±

    The United Soviet Alliance¡­ currently still one of the greatest superpowers in the world¡­ er¡­ well¡­ it probably still is. I haven¡¯t been out for awhile. The USSR is still around¡­ according to someone¡¯s memories.

    You¡¯ve been with Oz!

    Katherine smiled at Oz lovingly. She stroked his head softly with the blanket. I¡¯ve been in the Green Hills my love, I only came back because you touched my heirloom.

    Oz can¡¯t touch your hair.

    Katherine rolled her eyes in Oz¡¯s mind, but he simply responded by plastering a quizzical expression on his face. She sighed, and then remembered she had something specific to talk about. Oz, do you remember the box in the back of your mind?

    Oz nodded while he dug.

    That box is full of information, I couldn¡¯t put everything in there¡­ for some reason the memories you have from right before you¡­ ummm¡­ ended up in this beautiful wooden box¡­ they wouldn¡¯t fit. The box will open on its own when your mind is mature enough to handle the memories ¡ª and the emotions that come with them.

    I don¡¯t get it. Oz wiped sweat from his brow and kept digging.

    Katherine put her hands on her hips and glared at him. Just don¡¯t touch box dammit.

    ¡­ You said the bad word.

    Oz, promise me you won¡¯t touch the box.

    I promise!

    Good, hmmm¡­ what¡¯s that? Oz look out! You broke through!

    What? ¡°AHHHHHH!¡± The screams of a toddler filled the air as sunlight fell on his flesh and eyes for the first time in his life. The little boy tumbled down to the bottom of the hole he dug, in desperation to get out of the sun¡¯s rays. Tears and snot were everywhere as he whimpered and huddled in a corner.

    OZ!

    He shivered and shuddered as Katherine comforted him. The blanket wrapped around him, its light flowing into him and slowly but surely, rocking him to sleep. As he slept the blanket covered his body, shielding him from the sun. Noon turned to sunset and sunset turned to night. The stars were out. Oz opened his eyes and after a lot of coaxing, he started to crawl up the hole. Soon he saw the faint lights peaking through the opening in the ground. His previous traumatic experience with the great outdoors all forgotten, he oohed and aahed and exclaimed excitedly.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°Mom, what¡¯s that?¡±

    I won¡¯t answer if you don¡¯t call me by my name.

    He pouted, but curiosity soon got the better of him, ¡°Kathurine¡­ what¡¯s that?¡±

    Those are stars Oz, come, let¡¯s get out of this hole and see them!

    ¡°Okay!¡± Oz clutched the blanket in his hand and dragged it with him out of the hole. His bare feet touched grass for the first time in his life. For the first time ever his eyes saw something other than a box. He didn¡¯t know how to react. He was overwhelmed. He just stood there, staring up into the sky and feeling things he had never felt before. Everything was so innocent, so beautiful.

    He was so absorbed in the moment he didn¡¯t notice that he dropped the blanket. Or that it started to wriggle and deflate, turning into a thin blue mist. Or that the mist took the shape of a woman, slowly but surely, gaining colour and form. After a few minutes the beautiful auburn woman Oz had seen in his mind so many times had appeared in the real world. She stretched herself. Wrinkled her nose and then gingerly walked up to the invisible barrier of air she detected around them. When Katherine walked passed him, he nearly passed out in shock. As her hand slowly touched the wall of wind separating them from the outside world she sighed, ¡°There are two walls, one here and another on the other side of this water¡­¡±

    Oz shouted.

    ¡°SOOO COOOL!!! Mom! When could you do that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not your mother,¡± Her voice, like the tinkling of silver bells, stunned him. It was more beautiful than in his mind. Her red hair danced in the moonlight, the light unable to fully show off the beauty of every lock. Katherine turned and bent down, cupping his face in her hands she smiled. Dimples on full display. She kissed his forehead lightly. Oz blushed. And tried to pull away, but she snatched him and kissed his forehead over and over again. He was powerless to resist! None heard his screams as he was smothered with love. After a few hundred more kisses, she relented and let him go. He darted off and stuck out his tongue. She smiled. With a wave of her hand the dusty patchwork kimono floated up from the hole. Oz was mystified.

    He couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°Mom are you a cultibanator?¡±

    She wrinkled her face at him and grinned, ¡°Not quite, I am a wizard. A Wizard of Light. Hmmmmm¡­ the colours on this thing are ugly.¡± She touched the kimono and a soft blue light washed over it, bleaching the outfit. She felt the kimono''s storage pocket with her finger and let out a sound of surprise, ¡°To think that you were holding these treasures all along¡­ Hmmm¡­ I couldn¡¯t see the memories from your last night very clearly¡­ They were too¡­ fresh. But it looks like you had quite the eventful night.¡± She breathed deep and whispered, ¡°Duo.¡± A light flashed and the white kimono replicated before Oz¡¯s eyes. The second kimono much smaller and clearly meant for him. She put it on him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want it!¡± He struggled and eventually flung it off. His bird dangling in the wind as he stomped around the grass in anger.

    ¡°Now don¡¯t you want to look handsome and marry a nice girl?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll marry you!¡± He jutted out his lip in protest. She faltered. But fastened the kimono around him more aggressively than before. He squealed but let her finish. The rough fabric was now soft to the touch. She straightened him out. Dusted off his shoulders and adjusted the sleeves.

    ¡°Perfect, now, I¡¯m going to hide this other one okay? I¡¯ll tell you where it is when you¡¯re seventeen, or eighteen. Hmmm¡­ I¡¯ll let the box decide.¡± She snapped her fingers and the kimono vanished. Then she poked his head and he felt the box in his mind open, a soft light materialized in his mind and darted into the box. It closed. He scratched his head in confusion. She lunged and kissed him suddenly on the cheek.

    ¡°That was to remember me by.¡±

    ¡°¡­ What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I have to go Oz¡­ I hope you never forget me.¡±

    ¡°Mom, what are you talking about, I ¡ª AHHHH!¡±

    Oz yelped as she flicked him on the forehead, her voice was stern and hard, ¡°I am not your mother.¡± Her eyes flashed mischievously, ¡°Although things weren¡¯t too different back then from how they are now.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Back then?¡±

    Katherine smiled and placed a hand on the wall of wind, she beckoned with her other hand, ¡°Come, give me a hug.¡±

    ¡°Mom¡­ I¡¯m scared!¡± Oz didn¡¯t know why but his heart had clenched in his chest. He felt like he couldn¡¯t breathe. The box in his mind was dancing with energy threatening to burst. His legs froze, and his breathing almost stopped. But he heard her voice call out to him again.

    ¡°Oz¡­ come here.¡±

    As if on instinct, like his body was hardwired to respond to that voice, that soft smooth voice. He moved. One step at a time and wrapped both his arms around her and started to cry. His toddler sobs tore through the night.

    ¡°Oz, I¡¯m going to get you through this wall, okay? Then you¡¯ll be free¡­ Please, for my sake, survive.¡±

    ¡°Survive?¡± The word came out between small sobs, but it was intelligible.

    Katherine reaffirmed her words, ¡°Survive.¡±

    Her hand stroked his black hair. Her pale skin contrasting with its dark colour. Her green eyes looked lovingly at him. She waited for him to respond, softly playing with his hair. Eventually, Oz nodded, his hands clutched her blue summer dress tightly. Her body was warm. So warm. A different kind of warmth than just heat. Being with her, being near her, it made him feel so warm inside. So alive.

    Katherine smiled, closed her eyes and whispered in a voice that sounded like the murmuring of frogs, ¡°Lux in tenebris lucet.¡±

    A light flashed.

    The heat in Oz¡¯s body grew, soon, his body began to shine with a blue light. He opened his eyes but couldn¡¯t see anything. He tried to cry but couldn¡¯t. He tried to call her name, but he was unable. It was like he was moving through time and space, while not being part of time and space. Like he was walking underwater, he felt his legs and arms move. But he was not in control. He passed through the shimmering wall of air like light through a window. Then he felt his body lurch, like the feeling of jumping off a cliff. His stomach bunched into a knot. And he collapsed in a heap, on the other side of the wall of air. His body drenched with sweat and blood pouring from his ears. He saw a blue light tickle his face. His pain vanished. He heard a voice. He didn¡¯t know why, but when he heard it he cried. Harder than he had ever cried in his little life. The words were soft and sweet. But they pierced him in a way he could not understand. The box of memories in the back of his mind roiled and rocked but remained shut. He cried. He cried with all his might. He could still hear that lovely voice whisper in his ears.

    I love you Da Shan.

    The light dimmed. The voice faded. She was gone. Tears streaked down his face, he could not fully comprehend what had happened. Who was she? Where is she? He felt a void in his heart, a void that he didn¡¯t know how to fill. He started running, he didn¡¯t know where. He had to find her. It was dark. He was alone. The dim beckoning lights of the night stars seemed more menacing. The soft grass felt like it was cutting his feet. He ran. He ran. Shouting all the while.

    ¡°MOM!¡±

    ¡°MOM!¡±

    ¡°Mom, I¡¯m sorry¡­ pl¡­ pl¡­please come back!¡±

    ¡°MOM!¡±

    ¡°Kath¡­ Kath¡­ uhrine!¡±

    ¡°Forgive me¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t leave me alone¡­¡±

    He cried. Then he remembered. The hole! She¡¯s back in the hole! He turned and sprinted back towards the hole. But after running in the forest for a little bit he discovered something, he didn¡¯t know where the hole was or where he¡¯d come from. He started running frantically and with reckless abandon. Smashing into branches and tripping over roots in his panic. But fate was smiling at him. He stumbled to the clearing and saw the dingy little rope bridge and a patch of land, surrounded by water. He remembered this wet stuff. He¡¯d seen it before. He was intimidated. But gathering his little courage he marched to the water, only to be stopped by an invisible wall of air. Startled he tried again and again. Then he cried. And cried.

    ¡°Let me in Mom¡­ please¡­¡±

    His voice called out over and over again. But her red hair was nowhere to be found. He shouted. He sobbed. He tried everything.

    Soon exhausted from his crying he crumpled into a little ball, but his sorrow made him unable to sleep. He kept mumbling the same word over and over again: ¡°Mom.¡±

    Then, he heard voices in the distance. First a dull murmur, then they became distinct. He heard the barking of a dog and the footsteps of two men. Then there was the smell. The horrid smell. They reeked of blood and cruelty. Their voices came closer and closer, soon he could make out their words.

    A gruff booming voice declared matter-of-factly, ¡°The pension is pretty good I tell ya.¡±

    A thin weaselly voice responded. ¡°Eh, come off it. It¡¯s pretty bad! Ten ducats a week?¡±

    ¡°Well just take out what you need from Social Security and you¡¯ll ¡®ave more than enough!¡±

    ¡°Ya can¡¯t collect a pension and Social Security at the same time!¡±

    ¡°What? Why not?¡± The gruff voice went higher at the nasally man¡¯s response.

    The nasally man sighed in exasperation, ¡°The Union ain¡¯t stupid, they reduce your Social Security using some bizarre algororthium to calculate the reduction.¡±

    ¡°So I can collect both?¡±

    ¡°No you can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°But you just said I could, but that it¡¯d be reduced.¡±

    ¡°Well if it¡¯s reduced you can¡¯t collect it.¡±

    ¡°What¡­ I don¡¯t understand¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re supposed to let me do the thinking for you.¡±

    The gruff sounding man scratched his head at this remark, then shrugged. The two men marched on through the woods and arrived at the clearing. The bigger man scratched his head again and in his gruff voice spoke to his companion.

    ¡°Bruv¡­ what do you think about the latest election cycle? Personally I ¡ª Hey stop it you!¡± The dog on the end of the leash started going wild. He desperately tried to rein it in, his bulging muscles contorting from the exertion. The man called Bruv giggled at the scene.

    ¡°Ehehehehe¡­ well lookie here Tiny Tim, your damn vegan workout doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s ¡®elping you that much.¡±

    ¡°Oh, shut up Bruv, us Warlocks always ¡®ave weaker bodies¡­¡±

    ¡°Weaker than a dog¡¯s?¡±

    Tim grinned sheepishly as he strained on the leash, ¡°I genetically modified him, used a Blood Mana Crystal and a Braithwights¡¯ soul.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s freaking disgusting¡­ I love it! Hehehe!¡±

    ¡°I knew you¡¯d understand Bruv. Oh, this is what he¡¯s freaking out about. It¡¯s a little boy¡­ Hmmm¡­ maybe we could use him in a lab experiment. Is he dead? Go check. I¡¯m worried now.¡±

    Bruv shrugged his shoulders and then began in a lecturing tone, ¡°Now, let¡¯s not lose sight of our goal¡­ We¡¯re here for McCarthy¡¯s secret stash¡­ Oh¡­ he¡¯s awake. Oh, look at the poor thing, hey, Tiny Tim! He¡¯s so bloody scared he just pissed ¡®imself.¡±

    Oz¡¯s little eyes looked up and he saw a spindly boney looking figure looming over him. The man wore a long dark green trench coat and a black top hat. On his hands were black gloves and his shoes were white and black ¡ª dress shoes of course. The man¡¯s pupils were grey and his hair wild and wiry, his cheeks gaunt.

    He beckoned over the bigger man, a man almost twice his size and well over seven feet tall. He wore a white button-up long sleeve and green overalls. On his head he wore a dark grey bowler cap, but the most distinguishing feature was his bulging muscles. In his one hand he held a leash, at the end of which was a rabid dog. A dog that didn¡¯t look much like a dog at all. It resembled something like a bear crossed with a German Shepherd. In the other hand he held a walking cane, that for some reason didn¡¯t sink into the grass ¡ª no matter how much weight he put on it.

    The skinny man, Bruv, called over, ¡°Come on Tim, dammit, put down the dog and come inspect the goods!¡±

    ¡°Right, right.¡± Tim walked over to a nearby tree and lashed the dog to it, the beast whinnied and frothed and foamed at the mouth. Its eyes glaring at Oz like it was staring at a hunk of meat. Tim ignored its pleas and walked over and bent down to look into Oz¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ young boy¡­ you seem a little familiar to me¡­ those eyes¡­¡±

    ¡°Tim¡­ you¡¯re creeping me out.¡±

    ¡°Bloody ¡®ell Bruv, I don¡¯t want to eat the kid! I swear I¡¯ve seen ¡®im before!¡±

    ¡°Right¡­ whatever you need to say.¡±

    ¡°Dammit Bruv, you know my experiments are only half as bad as yours!¡±

    Bruv smiled wickedly, his taunt skin making him look like a grinning skeleton, ¡°Let¡¯s tie ¡®im up to a tree, we¡¯ll collet him on our way out.¡±

    ¡°Seems fair enough.¡±

    ¡°No let me go! I want my mom!¡± Oz shouted loudly, more from fear than courage. But the two men just sneered at him. He kept calling out, ¡°MOM!¡±

    Bruv patted him on the cheek gently ¡ª interrupting his cries, ¡°You want your Mum? Hmmm? You want to see ¡®er again?¡±

    Oz nodded. Terror evident in his eyes.

    ¡°You can¡¯t, she¡¯s dead. And I killed her!¡± He hissed at Oz, his eyes alight with violence.

    Oz froze.

    Bruv then tied him up and dragged him to a tree ¡ª just out of the range of the dog. When the skinny man returned to where Tim was standing. He placed his hand on the wall of wind and closed his eyes, as if deep in thought.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you say that Bruv?¡± Tim stared at him, a little bit of shock in his eyes.

    ¡°So ¡®ee¡¯d stop squirming.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Right. Carry on.¡±

    ¡°This wall is very strong. McCarthy¡¯s probably sealed up a portion of ¡®is wind to make this.¡± Bruv rubbed his hands together with anticipation. Then started rummaging through his pocket.

    Tim poked the wall gingerly, ¡°A portion of wind?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ most Elemental Cultivators increase in power by having more and more of their element in their command. Some of the weirder elements work differently. But McCarthy¡¯s a standard Wind Cultivator. ¡®Ee probably can control all the air in the Sect¡­ maybe even the whole province.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t use his power too much though¡­ so it¡¯s hard to know¡­ sneaky little elf-skin ¡®ee is¡­¡± Bruv scowled as he stared at a staff he pulled out. He put the staff back in his pocket and continued searching.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well, remember when ¡®ee killed our old boss, Melecandor? The Wizard?¡±

    ¡°¡®Ow could I forget?¡± Tim stared reverently at the ground, in memory of his old boss. Bruv continued after their impromptu moment of silence.

    ¡°He used brute force and some martial arts to knock him out. Then he disembowelled ¡®im with his bare hands¡­ didn¡¯t use an ounce of Wind.¡±

    ¡°Damn¡­ I didn¡¯t notice that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I told you to let me do the thinking for you. Anyways, should be able to make a hole in this. Let me just get my ¡ª¡±

    ¡°AHHHH!¡± A child¡¯s scream resounded in the night.

    Both men whirled around as the noise shattered the peace of the night. It was the deep blood curdling cry of a dying animal. It was the basest and most primal sound, a cry of desperation. It was Oz. The dog had somehow gotten loose and had pounced on the boy, Oz had tried to hold the dog back with his hand ¡ª instead the dog had swallowed his left arm whole and was chomping on his shoulder.

    ¡°DAMMIT BELVADEAR! I WILL GUT ¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay.¡± The skinny man placed a hand on Tim¡¯s shoulder, as his face warped into a sadistic grin, ¡°Let¡¯s just watch the show.¡±

    Oz in his panic, frantically pushed on the dog with his other arm and flailed wildly. The animal, seemed to be laughing at him and shook him like a ragdoll. Blood sprayed onto the grass and Oz¡¯s voice became weak. But he fought on. Then the dog yelped. Somehow, Oz¡¯s fingernail had scraped the beast¡¯s eye. It went wild. Placing its paws on Oz¡¯s chest it pushed Oz¡¯s body down to the ground and then the dog tilted its head back with all its might. The sound of tearing human flesh filled the night as the dog ripped the flesh of his arm, then a sickening pop as the bones in his shoulder joint were forcibly separated.

    Thankfully Oz had passed out, so he didn¡¯t feel the pain from that final moment. His body hung limp, blood gushing from the wound. The dog made a sound that resembled a throaty chuckle. As if delighting in the suffering it caused. It extended a snakelike tongue and licked the torso of the unconscious boy. Its bloody maw opened wide, rows of jagged teeth exposed to the moonlight. It went in for the kill. But then to the shock of Bruv and Tim. It just fell over. The dog staggered to its feet and fell over again. It lifted its head weakly to only fall again to the ground and start convulsing. Tim almost charged over to check his dog, but was stopped by Bruv, who whispered softly to him.

    ¡°We ¡®ave company¡­ play it cool.¡±

    At that moment a skinny elderly black man, wearing grey pants and a black leather jacket bolted into the clearing and put his head to the chest of the boy. Soon after a young black woman stumbled out of the forest ¡ª with slightly less grace ¡ª her voluminous curls and hazel eyes visible in the light of a full moon. Her grey trousers and black blouse blending in with her dark skin and the night. It was Ed and Edna ¡ª they had been out on a romantic evening walk, and Ed had decided he wanted to visit Da Shan¡¯s grave. They arrived just in time to see the boy lose his arm ¡ª immediately they took action. Ed killed the dog with a series of mind blasts and then bolted into the clearing to check on the dog. Edna rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a strange looking rod. After determining the boy was alive, Ed turned the boy on his side. The black man reached into an interior pocket of his jacket, his lack of shirt exposing his boney chest to the nighttime air. He pulled out some matches and lit the rod in the woman¡¯s hand. It lit and burned with a radiance that illuminated the dark. She held the burning rod to the bleeding stump that was the boy¡¯s shoulder. Then paused right before contact.

    Edna softly cooed to her husband ¡°Put him to sleep baby, make sure he doesn¡¯t wake up yet. This is going to hurt.¡±

    The man nodded and placed his hand on the boy¡¯s head. The air around the hand distorted for a moment. Then returned to normal.

    Seeing the distortion Tim whispered to Bruv, his eyes narrowed, ¡°¡®Ee¡¯s a Psycher¡­¡±

    Edna cauterized the wound. The sound and smell of sizzling flesh almost made couple sick. The other two men had no reaction. Edna blew out the rod and stashed it. Ed crumpled some pills in his hand and sprinkled them on the affected area, healing the burn. The boy needed some Blood Pills ¡ª and fast ¡ª or he might die from blood loss. He also needed professional help, at his age, randomly prescribing medicine could kill him. But there was another matter at hand. The couple moved Oz gently to a tree, and then turned and faced the two men. The air was full of tension. The two pairs stared at one another, hostility evident in Edna¡¯s and Ed¡¯s eyes.

    Then Bruv leaned over to Tim and whispered something that made the bigger man smile, ¡°She¡¯s a mortal.¡±

    Tim took off his bowler cap and bowed towards Edna, ¡°¡®Ello poppet.¡±

 Chapter 19: My Fair Lady

    Edna glared at Tim but said nothing. Tim relaxed his shoulders and casually swept his eyes over them. Ed approached, slowly and cautiously.

    Tim eyed ¡°We was just taking a beautiful midnight stroll, like yourselves,¡± Tiny Tim casually drawled out as Ed circled them slowly.

    ¡°Zat so?¡± Ed¡¯s tone was casual, but his eyes were hard.

    ¡°You know it gov¡¯ner!¡± Bruv piped up in his wily voice. His weaselly eyes darted to Edna¡¯s curvaceous form and he licked his lips.

    Ed levelled his gaze at both of them.

    Bruv¡¯s hands slowly drifted to his pocket. Tim reached behind his back. The Warlocks hunched over and bounced on their heels ¡ª as if ready to pounce. Eyes set and bodies tense. It was quiet. All that could be heard was the rustling of Edna¡¯s skirt as she moved along the grass, slowly getting behind her husband. Ed¡¯s fists clenched and unclenched. His gold rings glittering in the moonlight. The tension mounted. It was so think you could cut it with a knife.

    Then it broke.

    ¡°Well in that case, have a good night!¡± Ed¡¯s wrinkly face broke into a cheery smile. Tim and Bruv nearly spat blood.

    ¡°After all that damn build up¡­¡± They both mumbled in irritation under their breaths.

    Ed gave them a half-hearted salute, wrapped his arm around his wife¡¯s waist and floated Oz¡¯s body with his mind, turned and walked off. His many gold rings catching the nighttime light as he waved at the two Warlocks.

    Sizzle!

    Ed leapt to the side dodging a beam of fire that tore through where his back should have been. He rolled and floated his wife out of harm¡¯s way. Ed turned and faced his assailants. His face the picture of perfect calm. In Bruv¡¯s hand was a staff, very conspicuously pointed at him.

    ¡°Now what was that about?¡± Ed eyed the smoking stave in Bruv¡¯s hand. The red gem on the end of the gnarled black wooden stick still steaming with heat.

    ¡°Me hand slipped¡­ It was an accident¡­ friend.¡± Bruv smiled wickedly.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s totally cool! Have a good night then.¡± Ed tipped his hand to them, his bald black head seeming to reflect the starlight as he turned and proceeded to walk off. Edna, sprinted to her husband¡¯s side and eyed the two Warlocks with anger.

    Bruv felt like puking, he just didn¡¯t understand what was happening. But he felt rage at being ignored.

    ¡°Bruv¡­ maybe we shouldn¡¯t ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up Tim! He¡¯s a dead man now. Oi! Turn around so I can see your face when I blast a hole in your chest.¡±

    Ed stopped, side-stepped in front of his wife, so that Bruv and Tim couldn¡¯t see her anymore. Ed still kept his back to them as he rubbed his head.

    ¡°Turn the prick around!¡± Bruv nearly screamed at him, his high-pitched voice squeaking with indignation.

    Ed sighed. Pulled out a pipe from his pocket. Stuffed it with tobacco. Apple flavour. The smell reached the Warlocks despite the distance. He put the pipe in his mouth. And turned around. His voice low and threatening as he spoke, ¡°Are you talking to me?¡±

    ¡°Prick you!¡±

    Bruv unleashed a torrent of flame from his staff. The beam of heat shot straight for Ed¡¯s head. Ed swayed to the side ¡ª casually moving his wife with his mind ¡ª and turned his head, putting the pipe directly below the laser of fire. He took a deep puff, letting the magical flame light his tobacco. Bruv felt his jaw drop as Ed puffed contentedly on his pipe. He felt nothing but regret. Tim shifted and stepped closer to Bruv, his body language nervous.

    ¡°Now¡­ are you too stupid to realize, that I¡¯m way out of your league? Or are you doing this on purpose?¡± Ed took a deep puff before continuing, the smoke billowing around him. ¡°What are you? Upper Major Grade Wizards? Go back to practising your spells in the Department of Wizardry! What are your names?¡±

    ¡°Prick Tim, he¡¯s only Major Grade, if we don¡¯t kill him we¡¯re ¡ª¡± Bruv stopped mid-sentence and stared at his girthy friend, his jaw open. Tim had taken off his bowler cap, and was bowing to Ed.

    ¡°Apologies dear friend,¡± Tim¡¯s gravelly voice sounded steady and sure, ¡°But we are technically trespassing¡­ we feared you would report us to the authorities, so we lashed out. Foolishly. Perhaps you could kill us both, but maybe that pretty little wife of yours or that small boy you¡¯ve hidden in the trees won¡¯t be as lucky as you. Here, take these measly 10000 ducats as compensation.¡± Tim pulled out a small bag that clinked with the sound of money.

    ¡°Make it 100 stones and we got a deal.¡±

    ¡°Friend¡­ please¡­ have mercy¡­¡±

    ¡°No deal then.¡±

    ¡°100 stones it is!¡± Tim pulled out a bag of spirit stones and proffered them to Ed.

    Ed smiled, ¡°Just toss them over.¡±

    Tim nodded and tossed the stones in the air. He shouted in surprise as an invisible force pushed them back in his face. Bruv shrieked with rage as Edna shot toward him, propelled in the air by Ed¡¯s psychic power at her back, wielding a sharp katana in her hands.

    Her soft voice whispered in the night, ¡°Jodan no kamae.¡±

    Her sword slashed down ferociously.

    ¡°Ken.¡±

    Bruv lifted his staff hastily and took the blow directly, the staff didn¡¯t break but he was knocked back ten feet and looked stunned. Dust and leaves billowing in his wake. Edna ignored Tim and made a beeline for the stunned Warlock. Tim whirled around, a small wand in his hand, and shot a beam of fire at Edna¡¯s back. Defying the laws of physics, she was jerked to the side ¡ª is if by an invisible hand ¡ª and resumed her sprint. Before Tim could adjust and fire again, his scalp tingled with a sense of danger. He ducked. A ball of psychic energy whistled by where his head was just a second ago. Before he could recover, another ball shot to his torso. He moved and turned his eyes to look at Ed. He was shocked at what he saw.

    Ed had taken a south paw boxing stance and was throwing jabs with his right hand. With each jab a ball of energy would shoot out from the gold rings on his fingers. Tim turned to the side ¡ª his overalls and chemise eviscerated by a rippling ball that narrowly missed his heart. He cursed under his breath. Blood dripped from his shirt. And took a glance at the Bruv¡¯s battle, and grimaced. Tim mumbled in his mind. She closed the distance¡­ He jerked back to attention as he dodged another of Ed¡¯s missiles.

    ¡°Hey big boy, eyes here.¡± Ed¡¯s calm cool voice irked Tim, but he could do little more than dodge as if his life depended on it.

    Edna, free of Tim¡¯s interference, stepped in front of Bruv. She brought her blade down hard on the wiry man, but the spindly Warlock had recovered and wielded his staff like a sword. Edna had to use all her strength to swat the staff away every time he pointed it at her ¡ª lest he blow her stomach open with fire. She chopped with renewed vigour and put Bruv on the defensive. Her sword chopping down rapidly like an axe on wood. Bruv tried to take one head on, but his eyes went wide as his staff was nearly cleaved in twain. He tried to bat at her sword as he swung, using the gem on his staff as the point of contact. Over and over again Edna¡¯s arms swung. Her breath grew short and shallow, sweat poured down her brow and back. She was a mortal, with only mortal endurance. No cultivation power at all. Even compared to a wizard her bodily constitution was lacking, her skill in martial arts was all that gave her the advantage. Bruv waited like a snake, his eyes narrow, he was being patient. Waiting for her to run out of steam and have to take a deep breath. But Edna was more than just a mere mortal. She relaxed her shoulders, her next swings falling more lightly than before.

    Chop! Block! Chop! Block!

    Edna¡¯s relentless assault ended, and she paused to breathe. Bruv rejoiced inside and lunged forward, the tip of his staff glowing with fire as he swung it downward to smash her skull. She didn¡¯t panic. Edna sheathed her sword and felt Ed pull her backwards with his psychic power ¡ª the Warlock went wide-eyed as he missed his swing, the ground exploding in smoke and fire. Bruv coughed on the smoke, his vision obstructed by the dust and debris.

    Tim turned to their battle because of the noise, but screamed as a psychic blast took him in the chest. A last second incantation saving his life. He had no time to help, his partner was on his own.

    Edna kneeled and felt Ed push her forward, directly in front of the now vulnerable Warlock. She was kneeling on an invisible floor, inches off the ground. Bruv didn¡¯t notice her approach. She was lower than he expected. She was silent.

    ¡°Iaido.¡±

    Bruv felt the cut. He saw the blade flash through the smoke. Slicing the grey mist like it was grass. It was too fast for him to react. But he heard her speak. And he felt something. Warm liquid dripped down his legs. Edna stood and turned around, her back to him, and started walking ¡ª her feet back on the grass again. Her back completely exposed. His mind shouted. You¡¯re dead my dear! He sneered and flung his arm forward to blast her with magery, but was surprised when his body fell forward from the momentum. He toppled over. His eyes saw dirt and grass. He was shocked. What¡¯s happening? Why can¡¯t I feel my legs¡­ Legs¡­ Where am I¡­ What am I do¡­ do¡­ doing? Bruv¡¯s torso stopped wiggling on the ground and the bottom half of his body fell backward, blood spurting into the air.

    Tim swore loudly, ¡°Damn elf-skin!¡± His eyes went red, he ducked, dodging another of Ed¡¯s projectiles. Tim¡¯s heart clenched with desperation, he was alone. The swordsman was coming. He had to end this battle quick. He eyed her as she approached, she was out of breath. Sweating and tired. I need to kill her¡­ it¡¯ll throw off the Psyker. Tim grasped his wand firmly and weaved carefully around Ed¡¯s next shots, spinning gracefully like a figure skater. He could almost hear a soundless music, a certain pace to Ed¡¯s blasts. Feeling like he had a sense of Ed¡¯s rhythm, he anticipated a blast and dodged early ¡ª creating distance. He flung his hand out and pointed his wand at Edna preparing to blast her through. He tried to channel his mana but was stunned to see his hand fly off his wrist in puff of red mist and bone. His scream ripped through the air as he stared at his handless wrist. His eyes turned to Ed. Tim sighed in his mind. Oh, he was only throwing jabs with his right hand before. That was a shot from his right hand. This new blast was different from the others, it was fast, it was more like a blade than a ball. Tim couldn¡¯t move, his body was in shock. He closed his eyes and waited for the death blows from the Psyker. A one-two combo from Ed punctured a large hole where his heart should have been and a smaller hole where his stomach was. Tim dropped to his knees. Breathing heavily as blood poured from his wounds. His stomach acid spilling out into his organs, increasing his pain. Tim felt his mind crumble under the force of the agony. It barely registered when a cold blade slipped under his jugular. He tried to grab a healing pill from his pouch, to ease the pain in his gut. But the sword moved from his throat and tapped his hand.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°Now, now, let¡¯s not grab a healing pill just yet,¡± Edna¡¯s voice was hard and cold, in sharp contrast to her warm womanly figure.

    Ed slowly sauntered up, cracking his neck, letting his gold chain clink and bounce as he moved. Ed fluffed his leather jacket, allowing the moonlight to shine on his exposed chest and black skin. He took a deep draw from his pipe ¡ª it had never left his mouth the whole time. Ed waved a hand. Tim felt himself levitate in the air, the flow of blood from the wound stopped and the blood in his body started moving around ¡ª as if he still had a heart and stomach. He couldn¡¯t move his limbs though. Edna sheathed her sword and stood behind her husband. Ed puffed contentedly and just stared at Tim. Five minutes passed in silence. Tim felt himself break.

    ¡°What in bloody hell do you want?!¡± Tim¡¯s voice cracked at the end, his resolve broken.

    ¡°Who sent you?¡± Ed¡¯s voice was warm, almost neighbourly.

    ¡°No one!¡±

    Ed frowned in irritation, he took another puff and waited. Five more minutes passed. Tim jutted out his bottom lip in defiance. Ed took a deep draw and took his pipe out of his mouth. Emptied it out and stowed it away. He locked eyes with Tim and sighed, ¡°The only thing keeping you alive right now is me. You have no heart, you have no stomach. I am using my mind to move your blood for you, but there is a limit¡­¡± Ed popped a green pill in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.

    Tim opened his mouth to speak and gurgled when Ed squirted a green stream of liquid directly down his throat, ¡°This pill will ensure you do not faint or fall asleep¡­ no matter what happens I ¡ª Oh¡­ how unfortunate¡­ your kidneys have failed.¡±

    Tim nearly vomited blood and felt his eyes bulge as Ed forced his blood and bile back down his throat, ¡°Your tolerance for pain is immense.¡± Ed grinned as he stared at the Warlock with a predatory gaze. Tim¡¯s teeth chattered in fear.

    Ed smiled again, ¡°Oh no¡­ that¡¯s the liver.¡±

    Tim convulsed as his organs shut down, the pain so intense he could barely think or speak. His fingers and toes went numb. Then his arms and lungs. The immobility and helplessness creeped up his spine. He choked on air as his lungs gave way. He gulped for air that would never come. His face turned red. Tim felt like he was floating, suspended in a sea of pain. He waited. Waited patiently for the black to consume him, he hungered for it. He wanted to die. It hurt so much. He almost passed out from rage as he felt another pill get shoved down his throat. Rage turned to confusion and confusion turned to horror as he felt his body recover. Rapidly. Ed had just given him a high-grade healing pill. Tim blinked and floundered as air swam back into his lungs. He collapsed on the ground in a blithering heap, unmoving. Ed was not restraining him, but he was too weak to move.

    Tim gasped as Ed¡¯s boot connected with his ribs. Ed bent down and lifted his head, ¡°Ready to talk now?¡±

    Tim¡¯s eyes were wide, but he screeched in defiance, ¡°Never!¡±

    Ed sighed and turned to his wife, ¡°Baby, will you take the boy to Eleazer? We need to make sure he¡¯ll be okay. I have some¡­ things to take care of.¡±

    Edna seemed to be on the verge of puking, this side of her husband was making her sick. She knew what his job entailed. She knew who he worked for and what he did. But damn did she hate it. She hated McCarthy¡­ and ever since that day¡­ that horrible day. She saw her husband become colder and colder. He was becoming more and more like the man he hated. It frightened her. A tear slid down her cheek, she wiped it away and kissed Ed on the cheek. Then walked off to fetch the boy, she didn¡¯t say a word to him. If Ed was aware of her disappointment he didn¡¯t show it.

    Ed stared after Edna as she walked away. He almost sighed again, but caught himself and held it in. He looked at Tim¡¯s shattered psyche and wounded body. But there was no pang of guilt. He wanted to feel bad. He wanted to hate himself for what he was about to do. He knew it was wrong. But it had been so long since¡­ since he cared.

    Ed levitated Tim and flipped him upright and stared him in the eye. ¡°Let¡¯s start again¡­ what¡¯s your name?¡±

    Tim struggled against Ed¡¯s psychic bonds but was unable to move. He just glared at the old Psyker. Ed kicked him in the shins. Hard. A soft crunch revealed that bones had been broken. Tim whimpered but held in his tears. Ed looked Tim in the eyes, Tim looked away.

    Ed took out a towel and wiped the sweat off his brow, ¡°Now¡­ I didn¡¯t want to do this the hard way¡­ but you¡¯re being very¡­ uncooperative. So, let¡¯s try again.¡±

    Tim screamed as two holes appeared in his chest and gut. A log floated over from behind Ed and the black man sat down.

    He pulled out his pipe again. He stuffed it. He floated a match into the air and lit it. He took a deep breath and the smell of smoke and tobacco filled the night again. Tim¡¯s face had become a blithering mess, mucus and tears had made it unsightly. His mental defences were broken. Ed shut his eyes and burrowed into Tim¡¯s fragmented consciousness. Ed smiled at Tim again. He needed to tenderize the Warlock a little more.

    ¡°Tim¡­ can I call you Tim? See, I¡¯m an Auditor¡­ I kind of work for McCarthy and let me make this clear. You will die. But, I give you the power to choose when you die. Until you tell me what I want, I will keep you alive. When you tell me what I need to know ¡ª and I verify it of course ¡ª then you can git to the afterlife.¡± Ed¡¯s white teeth seemed to glow in the night. ¡°Oh no¡­ is that the kidney again? So fast this time. Healing pills can only do so much¡­ good thing I have a lot of them.¡±

    The screams were first loud. Then soft. Then just tired whimpering was heard. Then after a full hour all was quiet.

    Tim had cracked completely, his mind was broken. Ed killed him instantly, he didn¡¯t even bother to verify the information ¡ª he knew it was true.

    ¡°I need to tell the Chancellor.¡± Ed looked at his hands for a moment. They were clean, not a drop of blood on them, but he didn¡¯t feel clean. Ed stared at the night sky and let a tear fall down his face. One tear became two and the two became many. Soon Ed was sobbing uncontrollably, and he started vomiting on the grass beside the corpse. His apathetic frame of mind had shattered when he had peered into the thoughts and feelings of his victim.

    What have I become?

    Ed wiped his mouth. Floated the body. Arranged his jacket and walked off into the night.

    ***********

    Oz awoke in Ebenezer¡¯s lab from a night of feverish dreams. He saw Ed¡¯s concerned expression and the¡­ hungry? Whatever it was. The decidedly discomfiting gaze on Ebenezer¡¯s face, those were the first things he saw when he woke up from the endless cycle of dreams. He felt different this time. When he woke up after he lost an arm he remembered seeing Ed for the first time. Oz felt an unconscious urge to kill him ¡ª right then and there. He remembered the home. Playing with the twins. He remembered it all. He remembered the night he had grabbed the knife. Then the knife protruding from his chest. Then black.

    But now¡­ after he awoke from the second surgery, he had a new scar and a new frame of mind. He felt better. The feelings and emotions that had driven him to try and murder Ed seemed¡­ alien. Seeing the auburn woman in his dreams was nice, it brought a clarity to him. He reached in his mind, trying to find the box¡­ but he couldn¡¯t find it (probably due to his abysmal psychic potential, though little Oz didn¡¯t quite understand those things yet). He relaxed and let Ed and Ebenezer fawn over him. He still felt strange towards Ed (a bit of bloodlust), but that was a problem for another time.

    Everything after that was a blur. He visited that shop frequently, almost once a week. Drinking weird concoctions and performing strange exercises every time he went. Bathing in odd fluids at home. Things with weird tentacles and their own pulses¡­ it was a strange time. Every time he visited the store Ebenezer had eyed him like he was a massive pile of money ¡ª it made Oz uncomfortable.

    Since that day Ed was rubbing his head more frequently than before, but soon life settled to the everyday grind. One day ¡ª he didn¡¯t remember when ¡ª he asked Ed why he was rubbing his head so often. Ed had avoided his question. He then asked Ed why he had to drink weird things and strange exercises almost every week. Ed had smiled at him. A sad smile. ¡°So that you can become a cultivator.¡±

    In total, two years passed in the blink of an eye. He was five years old now and sitting on a rolling green hill overlooking a house ¡ª his house. Oz stopped reminiscing and stared at the sky, he noticed the low angle of the sun in the sky and the absence of wind on the grassy knoll. It was time to pick the twins up from school. He got up and started walking down the hill just as Ed¡¯s bald shining head popped out of the house. Ed turned to shout at him, calling him to get the girls (but held it in), noticing Oz was on his way. He waited patiently. They stood side by side in awkward silence. Soon they were walking together, down the road to the local elementary school. It was quiet.

    ¡°Did you play?¡± Ed¡¯s tone was casual and playful, breaking the silence.

    Oz shook his head.

    ¡°Oh, what did you do?¡±

    Oz shrugged.

    Ed grinned, ¡°Come on, tell me! Why don¡¯t you ever talk to me bugger!¡± Ed tousled his hair casually. Oz frowned. Ed laughed.

    Oz just didn¡¯t know how to react to Ed. In his mind was the constant desire to murder Ed. But at the same time, there was a strong feeling of inhibition. The conflicting urges tore him apart¡­ so much so¡­ his little mind was just blank when Ed was nearby. It took all the clarity and focus of mind he could muster to respond with gestures.

    ¡°Did you just lie down on the hill again?¡±

    Oz nodded.

    ¡°You need to run around more¡­ build up some muscle so you can go to school. So, you can learn to be a cultivator.¡±

    Oz¡¯s lips pursed into what looked like a cross between a grimace and a scowl.

    Ed looked at him questioningly. ¡°What? You don¡¯t want to be a cultivator?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Don¡¯t¡­ want¡­¡±

    The words were quiet, so quiet Ed almost missed them. Ed held in his shock, if he reacted strongly maybe the boy wouldn¡¯t speak to him again. He waited to see if Oz would say more.

    Oz scowled. But didn¡¯t speak again.

    Ed¡¯s shoulders slumped. He started to doubt if the boy had talked at all. After a few moments of walking in silence they arrived at the school. Children bustled about in the playground and Ed¡¯s two daughters stood out among the crowd. They were rambunctious, a side affect of their upbringing and Oz¡¯s playfulness. Ed smiled. He loved the twins a lot. Of all his children these were the only ones who looked related to him. Beautiful soft ebony skin and naturally curly hair like their mother. Their soft blue eyes and orange tinged hair revealing their mixed ancestry. They were pretty girls and he intentionally dressed the twins in matching outfits. He considered it his solemn duty as a parent! Today was pink dresses and white sandals. They frolicked about with the other school children, but when their eyes landed on Oz they lit up with emotion. They dashed across the playground and tackled him to the ground, Ed stood back and chuckled, a deep throaty sound. Oz used his one hand to pet each of their heads, his hand bouncing back and forth between them rapidly to make up for its singleness. He smiled at them.

    ¡°Did you miss us?¡± Their girlish voices spoke in unison.

    Oz felt a myriad of feelings, all too unfathomable and mysterious for him. He didn¡¯t know whether he missed them or whether what he felt was beyond emotion. But, those thoughts were too complex for him. He simply smiled and nodded. A tickle war began and after a few minutes the three children were being levitated in the air and Ed was walking home. Juggling all three of his kids and them laughing gleefully as he walked. The fun and games continued all the way home. And even when the door was shut, laughter echoed from the warm home the family shared. As darkness covered the town, the lights in Ed¡¯s home were lit, the sounds of dinner and the smell of a delicious stew wafted into the night. No one noticed the pair of amber eyes that glowed in the dark, the eyes that had followed Ed all day. The eyes that had stared at Oz on the hill. The eyes that had watched the twins at school many times. Amber eyes that burned.

 Chapter 20: Its Easy to Play Any Musical Instrument

    Oz yawned as he rolled out of the sheets in the morning. His five-year old body was stiff and tired. His cold feet impacted the floor and chilly morning air brought goosebumps to his bare skin. He inhaled sharply with displeasure but pressed on. He dropped down onto the wooden floor and began stretching. His eyes aimlessly wandered around the bare room, resting on his red and white checkered quilt. The quilt seemed to beckon to him with its curvaceous and seductive form¡­ calling his name over and over again. He shivered with pleasure as he recalled the warm embrace of a cotton 800 thread count blanket. He reluctantly peeled his eyes from the luscious frame and well filled out bulges on his bed called pillows, their size wasn¡¯t the greatest¡­ but the texture and firmness was just right. But every good thing must be left behind on the path of cultivation! SAY NO TO TEMPTATIONS!!! Oz blinked away the licentious form of his immoral pallet and continued stretching.

    After stretching Oz went to the drawer beside his bed and pulled out a black glass bottle in the shape of an eight. He uncorked it. A most unpleasant odor found its way into his nose. His nose wrinkled instinctively in disgust, he could practically hear Ebenezer¡¯s mad cackling as he brewed this foul concoction. He tilted the bottle and foul-smelling molasses like liquid oozed into his hand. His little face scrunched in pain. A drop of the liquid spilled onto the floor and let off smoke as it impacted the wood, sizzling and fizzing. Oz looked down impassively, then muttered under his breath, ¡°Papa¡¯s gunna be pissed.¡± The new burn mark joined a growing family of burn marks on his floor, this one was dog-sized. When Ed had seen the grandfather sized mark Oz had a very difficult time sitting down for a couple days.

    He then began to rub down every inch of his body with the foul, black and sticky liquid. Wherever the liquid touched his body felt like it was on fire, a fire that spread. Soon his whole body was coated in the thick ebony fluid. He wavered on his feet, the pain making him feel dizzy. He sat down on the floor and screeched in surprise as the floor reacted with the fluid. Smoke filled the room and Oz shouted in angst, ¡°Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Oh ¡ª¡±

    ¡°What the hell you doing son?!¡± The door crashed open as Ed bounded into the room, his face contorted with rage. ¡°The hell you doing to the floor?! Let me get my damn switch, Imma make your candy bottom the same colour as that floor!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak like that to your son! And no spanking the boy with anger!¡± Edna¡¯s voice floated up from the kitchen.

    Ed blushed sheepishly and called back, ¡°I know baby, I know!¡± Ed rubbed his bald head furiously, then took a series of deep breaths and calmed down. ¡°Anger is the enemy, anger is the enemy¡­¡± Ed mumbled the chant to himself over and over again, then, having calmed down. Flashed Oz a toothy grin, ¡°You gunna pay for this one later. For now, let¡¯s finish this up. Dammit son¡­ why don¡¯t you put down the towels like I tell you to! Each damn morning it¡¯s the same thing!¡±

    Oz blushed awkwardly, ¡°Sorry Papa.¡±

    Ed¡¯s jaw almost dropped, he whistled, ¡°Well since you in a speaking mood, I¡¯m in a forgiving mood. Alright, let¡¯s get this done.¡±

    Ed floated Oz off the floor and floated more liquid from the bottle to replace what was lost in the carnage. Soon Oz was suspended in the air and coated in the black fluid from head to toe.

    ¡°Damn apothecary said that this stuff was safe¡­ What you go to say for yourself boy?!¡±

    Oz¡¯s brown eyes stared back at Ed, the expression of pain on his face only barely suppressed.

    ¡°Uh huh¡­ same as usual¡­ nothing. Looks like yesterday was a dream and today was a coincidence.¡± Ed pulled out a rag and dusted his hairless scalp. ¡°Dammit kid¡­ that floor is gunna collapse at this rate and you gunna fall right through there inta the living room.¡±

    Oz smiled, barely. His eyes still tight with pain.

    ¡°You know, if you ain¡¯t gunna put the towels down, you supposed to do that outside¡­ I know you don¡¯t like getting naked in public¡­ but you still five¡­ hell when we go to the beach you still swim butt naked.¡±

    Oz¡¯s face crumpled with displeasure. Ed tried to choke back a laugh, but brayed one out anyways.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re one of those families.¡±

    Ed shouted and dropped Oz to the floor with a crash, then yelled curses too profane to be written as he levitated the boy and lathered on the poultice for the second time. Ed turned and stared with anger at the figure of Joseph McCarthy.

    McCarthy¡¯s back was straight. He smelled lightly of tobacco, but today his stubble was gone, and his characteristically clean-shaven face was back. A strong jaw, blue eyes and slicked back black hair accented his formal attire. His jacket was gone today. It was just a solid grey vest, black tie and a white shirt with a few thick grey stripes. Grey pants and brown leather shoes completed the outfit. McCarthy clicked his heels a couple of times on the wooden floor and met Ed¡¯s gaze for a second before staring at the suspended form of Oz.

    Ed stared at his boss. He looked like the head of a newspaper company¡­ if he was the company would be called the Grim Tidings because that¡¯s all McCarthy ever brought with him. Ed sighed in his mind. I don¡¯t need this¡­ first I got to fix my friggin¡¯ floors¡­ then I gotta go to work but DAMMIT!!! Work came home! Wait¡­ how the hell did he get in here?

    ¡°Those families at the beach¡­¡± McCarthy paused and licked his lips and then his fingers twitched. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, ¡°Those families¡­¡± He repeated emphatically, tapping the pack open. ¡°¡­ At the beach¡­ with their kids running around naked.¡± He pulled out a cigarette from the now open pack and then put it in his lips and chewed on it thoughtfully. ¡°I hate them.¡± McCarthy spat out the chewed-on cigarette. Ed watched the cigarette bounce to the floor and the tobacco spill out because of McCarthy¡¯s chewing. Both men stared at the pile of tobacco on the floor. McCarthy gave Ed a meaningful glance and pulled another cigarette out and put it in his lips. He pulled out a match. Struck it on his shoe. Then held it up to light his smoke.

    But Ed doused the flame with his mind. McCarthy glared at him. Ed whispered, ¡°There¡¯s kids in here... it¡¯s my house.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t order me around¡­ everything is my house. Think of me like a big brother¡­ who¡¯s also your landlord¡­ who¡¯s also your boss¡­ and your penitentiary.¡± McCarthy grinned, tossed the old match away and struck another one. ¡°Just think of me as your big brother¡­ right comrade?¡± McCarthy glanced up ¡ª as he was lighting the cigarette ¡ª at Oz. The boy frowned in disapproval at him. His black hair, greasy with poultice and overall neutral countenance reminiscent of a certain someone. McCarthy dropped the match, his cigarette unlit, in shock.

    McCarthy was absolutely stunned. A name leaked out from his lips, ¡°Da Shan?¡±

    Ed¡¯s eyes went wide. The boy looked confused. McCarthy stormed up to Oz insanity alight in his gaze, Ed shouted and tried to grab his shoulder. But a fierce gale pushed Ed¡¯s hand away and then pummelled him out of the room ¡ª hissing and screaming as it howled at him.

    Edna¡¯s voice called out again, ¡°Baby, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    Ed struggled against the cascade of wind that pinned him to the wall. He tried to shout, but the wind funneled into his open mouth preventing him from crying out. Through blurry eyes he saw McCarthy wipe away the fluid around Oz¡¯s neck with a light breeze. McCarthy traced his finger around the base of Oz¡¯s neck. He mumbled to himself. ¡°There¡¯s no scar here¡­¡±

    The spark of insanity in his gaze subsided. Ed stumbled to the ground as the air stifling him vanished. He gasped for breath, gulping in as much air as he could.

    ¡°Baby, is everything okay?¡± The sound of Edna¡¯s footsteps reaching the base of the stairs startled Ed.

    ¡°DON¡¯T COME UP HERE!¡±

    He heard her shuffle her feet in retreat. Ed¡¯s mind fumbled for a follow up.

    ¡°That¡­ that damn Ebenezer¡¯s poultice messed up the floor¡­ let me¡­ let me patch it up a bit first.¡±

    Ed could envision Edna wagging her finger up at him as she spoke, ¡°You need to disassociate yourself with all these shady characters baby.¡±

    Ed heaved a sigh of relief and chuckled to himself, ¡°Baby, maybe I¡¯m a few more shades greyer than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Well you a black man ain¡¯t you?¡±

    Ed laughed, ¡°That¡¯s not what I had in mind.¡±

    Edna huffed and shouted to him as she walked away, ¡°That damn McCarthy¡¯s the worst of them all. Frig¡­ he¡¯s a damn elf-skin!¡±

    Ed felt beads of sweat pour down his face and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of McCarthy¡¯s feet creaking on the floorboards right next to him. The man had simply teleported from Oz¡¯s side to his, but there was no scent of mana nor a flash of light.

    ¡°McCarthy! How are you doing that?!¡± He whispered.

    ¡°I hear everything Edmund. I won¡¯t forget what your wife said.¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice was cold and hard like drawn steel and he stared intently down the stairs.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Ed tried to muster up the courage to stare down McCarthy, but the Chancellor was incredibly unhinged today. He knew if he antagonized McCarthy the man could snap and just kill his wife on a whim. He needed to play some softball.

    ¡°Awww¡­ hell man¡­ you should forget.¡± Ed tried to smile as he pulled out a match and lit it with his mind. He extended it in front of McCarthy¡¯s cigarette. McCarthy eyed him for a moment. The sweat dripped down Ed¡¯s neck. McCarthy gave a tight smile. He sucked a breath of air through his cigarette, the tube of tobacco glowed orange as McCarthy inhaled, filling his lungs with the noxious smoke.

    McCarthy waved casually, ¡°It¡¯s forgotten¡­ for now. Come to my office later¡­ we have things to talk about. And ¡ª¡± McCarthy and Ed turned to Oz who was now being suspended by a gentle updraft, the swath of liquid McCarthy had peeled off his neck replaced with fresh fluid. ¡°¡ª Bring the boy with you sometime¡­ not today¡­ but later. I¡¯m going to have Elderweiss look at him, just to be sure.¡±

    ¡°Just to be sure of what¡­¡± Ed swallowed nervously.

    ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s my son.¡±

    McCarthy barked a laugh, ¡°He only looks like your son now, but when that stuff comes off he¡¯ll look like my son. Maybe I¡¯ll adopt him from you, how¡¯s a thousand spirit stones sound? Hm? That¡¯s your price isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°The hell is your problem?¡±

    ¡°YOU!¡± The shout was unexpected and violent.

    Ed shuddered as he was shoved back, blood dripped from his eyes and ears. He coughed and blood sputtered out, almost hitting McCarthy¡¯s suit, but was intercepted by a breeze that blew the globules back into Ed¡¯s face. Ed was shocked, the control on this shout was new¡­ next level. Normally Ed would be flung back or knocked against a wall. The blast of wind this time was so concentrated and direct, the most it did was push him back a step. But the pain¡­ the pain was far more immense. Ed stared defiantly at McCarthy as blood dripped through clenched teeth. Ed¡¯s gaze shot to the stairs to make sure his wife wasn¡¯t coming.

    McCarthy smiled, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, only you and I heard that shout. I¡¯m a fair man Ed. I only punish the guilty party.¡± McCarthy blew a puff of smoke into Ed¡¯s face. ¡°And you look guilty to me.¡± McCarthy leaned in and adjusted Ed¡¯s black kimono. He dusted off the shoulders and blew another puff of smoke into Ed¡¯s face. ¡°I can¡¯t see any evidence of conspiracy¡­ just based on looking at the boy. But Elderweiss will do a full diagnosis and then we¡¯ll see what you¡¯re hiding from me.¡±

    Ed gulped, if McCarthy thought he was a traitor¡­ it would be a fate worse than death. He regretted that powerplay he made in McCarthy¡¯s office to see Da Shan¡¯s grave. The swagger of me being Commander Grade has gone to my head¡­ damn Ebenezer warned me. Ed put on an ingratiating smile. McCarthy¡¯s eyes rose in suspicion at the change of expression.

    ¡°Chancellor ¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Chancellor ¡ª" McCarthy stopped abruptly and his eyes narrowed as he realized he didn¡¯t have to correct Ed.

    Ed continued as if nothing strange had happened, ¡°I have served you well for over 50 years. I went from being the most useless of Auditors to the most effective. I am your best assassin and you¡¯ve even put me in charge of the Investigators. I don¡¯t think I could have hidden evil motives from you for this long¡­ unless you really think I¡¯m that much smarter than you?¡±

    McCarthy snorted, an untoward and unexpected sound from him, ¡°I am the smartest. But everyone makes mistakes. Da Shan taught me that lesson with his own body. Twice. I don¡¯t need to learn it again. If you come up clean¡­ you come up clean. If you don¡¯t¡­ just remember what I said to your wife five years ago.¡±

    Ed closed his eyes and shuddered involuntarily. The man¡¯s psychotic! He opened his eyes and almost collapsed to the floor when he realized McCarthy had disappeared. Ed held his breath then gasped in fear, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­ he¡¯s advanced in cultivation? Prick¡­ EDNA! I¡¯m going out baby, I got to do some work!¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s a Sunday baby!¡± Edna¡¯s irritation was evident in her tone.

    ¡°It¡¯s a work day, I¡¯m out! Oz, go shower! Your morning wash is over.¡± Ed reached with his mind and plucked the boy, who¡¯s face was both confused and neutral ¡ª (an odd combination to say the least) and floated him to the bathroom and turned on the water. At least that damn fool left his wind to keep Oz from ruining my floors. Ed raced down the stairs, kissed his wife and was out the door before she could respond.

    Edna was floored. But after a few minutes of huffing and puffing she went back to preparing breakfast for her son. Ed¡¯s domain was the little shop and their training yard. But this house was her domain. She ran this place, in here, Ed had to take orders from her. The pinnacle of her authority was the kitchen, Ed was a slave to her food. It was one of the reasons that she ¡ª a mortal ¡ª had managed to marry a cultivator. Whenever Ed didn¡¯t eat food, she felt like he was slipping away, like she was no longer the center of his life. Ever since what had happened with Da Shan five years ago, things had been different. He didn¡¯t eat for a solid week, before that she had never seen him skip a meal. Ever since then he would find a way to miss meals, breakfast, lunch, dinner ¡ª even dessert on a couple occasions. It worried her. She felt like he was catching McCarthy¡¯s insanity. She shook her head. Edna had other people to feed today, she couldn¡¯t spend all morning worrying about her husband.

    The twins were still sleeping and probably would want oatmeal for breakfast. She hated oatmeal. Oz didn¡¯t care for it, but he liked making it for the twins. She smiled at how adorable her boy was. She heard the flow of water in the pipes, Oz had just finished his bath. She started to hum as she pulled out a fresh loaf of bread from the oven. The smell of crisp and fresh bread filled the house. The gentle sound of a knife on a cutting board echoed in the quiet kitchen as she neatly cut the loaf into thick slices.

    As Edna sliced downstairs Oz rubbed his head vigorously with a towel upstairs. His skin was raw, red and itchy. Ebenezer¡¯s poultice was designed to penetrate his muscles from the outside. Toughening his skin and thickening his blood¡­ or something or other. Oz didn¡¯t really understand why he needed to endure the painful procedure everyday, it felt like a thousand needles puncturing his skin. Soon the redness began to fade and his skin and hair looked more vigorous than ever. But in his eyes, it wasn¡¯t worth it.

    I don¡¯t want to be a cultivator.

    He mulled the thought over and over again as he put on a loose white shirt, grey pants and a black rope belt. His brown eyes shone from the medication, his skin glowed and his hair gleamed in the light. In a word, he was ¡°fresh¡±. An overall pleasant sensation, but not so pleasant that it was worth all the suffering he went through. The thought came to him again, stronger this time.

    I don¡¯t want to be a cultivator.

    He resolved himself to be a little more forceful when he talked with Ed next time. Oz ran the towel through is hair a second time, then started to walk down the stairs. His bare feet gently falling on the wooden floor. He was careful to avoid that one creaky step in the middle of the staircase. And that odd dent in that other step. Ah, and how could he ever forget the part of the rail that wasn¡¯t attached anymore? After carefully avoiding all obstacles he hopped off the last step and made his way to the kitchen, his stomach grumbling.

    He was sore. He was tired. He was hungry. He had met McCarthy. It reminded him of the first time he laid eyes on Ed, a torrent of vengeful emotion had seized him. But when he looked at McCarthy, he only felt a pungent sense of sadness, but it was an emotion that was altogether alien to him. He didn¡¯t understand why, but there was a heavy bitterness veiled behind the sorrow, a bitterness Oz could only vaguely sense the shape of. Most of it was sealed away in the box in his mind. The morning was too eventful for him. He began to drag his heels, burdened with adult-sized problems in his toddler-sized mind.

    Then he felt it.

    His senses were assaulted.

    They were overwhelmed, and his defences were breached!

    A battering ram of smells burst open the gate of his mind and troops of sounds poured in like a flood.

    He smelled freshly toasting bread. Oh, and did he ever smell it. The pop of the toaster sent his stomach rumbling, it tantalized his mind with its sound. With a lopsided grin Oz bounded into the kitchen, seeing Edna slathering butter into toast he waited a moment ¡ª just a few feet behind her. The sound of a butter knife on toast was the greatest morning symphony ever written. Oz¡¯s eyes closed in full appreciation of this stately composition. A butter on toast concerto, in Edna Major! His heart fluttered in appreciation for this immensely gifted woman.

    Ah! The jam solo! He grinned with his eyes closed at the pop of a jar opening. His body shivered involuntarily at the sound of a utensil plunging into the jam. Then his body froze. Huh?! Spoon! What blasphemy!!! The sound is ruined! His breath shortened, and his cheeks flushed with indignation as the sound of a spoon on toast filled the kitchen. The grate of metal on grain was uneven¡­ the roundness of the spoon clipped the sound of the treble! It was ruined!!! The great morning orchestra of happiness was plunged into an abyss of grossness. Disgusting¡­ an abomination! Oz¡¯s bottom lip quivered with umbrage of the highest order as he haughtily approached Edna. He crossed his arms and stood beside her, waiting patiently to be noticed. He didn¡¯t have to wait too long.

    ¡°Aw there you are darling, good morning!¡± Edna ruffled Oz¡¯s slightly damp hair. She glanced down at him upon noticing his lack of reaction. His face was stoic. Almost majestic ¡ª if a five-year-old could look majestic. She ruffled his hair again. No response. She tried one more time. Again, no response. Edna huffed aloud, ¡°First your Papa has gone all crazy and now it¡¯s rubbed off on you.¡± She looked down at him and glared, ¡°If I don¡¯t get a smile out of you, I ain¡¯t fit to be a mother!¡±

    A tickle attack, some scratches and a near incident of pant¡¯s wetting later and Oz had finally forgotten his morning woes. Edna was quietly sitting with him at the breakfast table, drinking her coffee and watching him eat his toast. She watched his peculiar mannerisms with amusement. He ate like a fussy senior, not like the sloppy toddler he was.

    Edna sipped her coffee and cocked her head and asked, ¡°Oz, how was your medicine bath this morning?¡±

    Oz set down his toast on his plate and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. Edna quirked a grin but didn¡¯t say anything. Oz looked at her with his soft brown eyes and said, ¡°Mama¡­ I don¡¯t want to be a culti ¡ª¡­ A cultiba ¡ª¡­¡± Oz frowned and stared at Edna.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay darling, try again.¡±

    He gathered his courage and inhaled deeply, careful to pronounce each letter, he tried again, ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a cultivator anymore!¡±

    Edna raised her eyebrows, but patiently asked, ¡°Why not Oz?¡±

    ¡°Because¡­ it hurts.¡±

    ¡°Boy, the pain will go away after awhile. You should stick to it.¡± Edna tried to soothe him, but Oz shook his head vigorously.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡±

    Edna sighed, drained the last of her coffee and stood ¡ª starting to clean the table, and smiled when Oz tried to help. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, ¡°Boy, we¡¯ll talk with your Papa when you get home. For now, you still have to drink that potion at lunch time!¡±

    Oz nodded solemnly, though his face looked sullen. He looked wistfully out the window, only to catch a pair of amber eyes staring at him through the glass. He almost dropped the dish in fright, but when he looked again, the eyes were gone. His head turned as he heard the sound of footsteps as someone moved slowly from the window sill to the door.

    ¡°Mom! There¡¯s a scary man outside!¡±

    The sound of shoe on stone tile softly emanated from the entrance of the house.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ what¡¯s that darling?¡± Edna was only half listening as she turned on the tap. Washing the dished with a do-rag.

    Oz started bouncing on his feet, ¡°Mom, there¡¯s ¡ª¡±

    Knock knock. The washing of dishes paused. And the water stopped running.

    Edna frowned and said, ¡°I wonder who that could be?¡±

    The sound of a fist thumping against the door interrupted Oz¡¯s sentence. He tried to tug at Edna¡¯s apron as she walked to the door, but she just shushed him. He tried again to pull her away from the door, but to no avail. Those eyes, those yellow eyes, they haunted his feverish dreams. Edna pushed Oz away gently with a laugh. "Calm down boy, now let''s see this bogeyman of yours."

    She looked through the peephole and her face went white.

 Chapter 21: Enemies Within

    ¡°Do you know what day it is today Ed?¡± McCarthy stood stoically in his office. He was wearing a blue suit jacket, a grey vest, blue pants and brown shoes. His pinstriped suit was wrinkled, his tie seemed a little crumpled and his perfectly arranged hair was in slight disarray. It looked like he had gotten into a bit of a tussle. What was even more unusual was that his hands were stuffed in his pocket, and his back was slouched. McCarthy was a man of precision and exactness, his back was always straight and his hands were never casually inside his pockets¡­ such sloppiness had never been seen before. McCarthy¡¯s foot tapped restlessly as he waited for Ed to respond.

    Ed, sensing the expectation sighed. He shrugged half heartedly, ¡°Today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow.¡±

    McCarthy grimaced and didn¡¯t respond. But he was clearly displeased with Ed¡¯s answer.

    Ed sniffed the air carefully. Ed reached into his consciousness to make sure Jannes was well hidden, satisfied with his little check Ed began to soak in the office. The scent of tobacco around McCarthy was much stronger than before. McCarthy waited some more as if waiting for Ed to try again. Ed however was not willing to play twenty-four hundred Socratic questions with the Chancellor. So, he patiently waited and let his eyes roam around the office. He noticed how the Chancellor looked off into the distance through the window behind his desk, his back to Ed. Ed didn¡¯t understand why he did these empty and sentimental gestures all the time. the change of clothes. Then Ed realized McCarthy had changed his clothes and McCarthy¡¯s overall appearance was a little ruffled. It can¡¯t be¡­ did McCarthy get into a fight? He ventured to ask.

    ¡°Sir¡­ er um¡­ Chancellor, why did you change your clothes?¡±

    ¡°Eh? What was that?¡± McCarthy cocked his head to one side, as if not comprehending what Ed was asking.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Ed began nervously ¡ª McCarthy absently nodded, head still turned to the side. ¡°Earlier today you were wearing grey pants and brown shoes.¡±

    McCarthy turned his head away from the window to one side, one of his eyes casually focussed on Ed. ¡°Oh¡­ Yes, I was.¡±

    ¡°Why did you change? You never change.¡±

    McCarthy faced the window and shrugged, ¡°You never know who you can trust Ed¡­ You just never know.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean sir?¡± Ed carefully let the final word hang in the air, testing the waters.

    McCarthy ignored the fact that Ed called him ¡°sir¡± and absently shrugged again, ¡°I think we have another purge coming.¡± At this McCarthy turned and squarely faced Ed.

    Ed felt a cold chill creep down his spine and sweat began to leak down his scalp. ¡°Sir¡­ I don¡¯t ¡ª"

    ¡°¡ª The Martial Arts Department¡­ they¡¯re acting up again.¡±

    Ed almost collapsed from relief, he thought some of his plans had been exposed, he almost fainted. But McCarthy¡¯s next sentence sent fresh shivers into his body.

    ¡°I think I need to kill the department head.¡±

    ¡°Sir you can¡¯t -¡ª¡±

    ¡°I am the Chancellor, I can do whatever I want.¡±

    Ed tried again, ¡°Sir think, you need to have compassion be more neutral.¡±

    ¡°You dare question me? You don¡¯t have that right!

    ¡°Sir, you can¡¯t make the same mistakes you did with Da Shan you can¡¯t ¡ª "

    McCarthy whirled around and shouted, ¡°I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!¡±

    The words seemed to come to life, manifesting in the air. A funnel of wind screamed towards Ed with alarming speed. That¡¯s lethal! Ed¡¯s mind screamed in panic. Time seemed to slow down to a snail¡¯s pace as Ed¡¯s eyes went wide and he conjured a psychic barrier to block the funnel of wind. The wind crashed into the ghostly wall with an almost solid thud. The invisible barrier rippled and contorted as if an invisible fist was pushing against a rubber wall. Then it burst. Ed flew back, his golden necklace negating some of the damage from the blow. But his body crashed into the door shattering the wood and tumbling out into the hall. Students and teachers screamed at the sight of Ed¡¯s battered body ¡ª massive wooden splinters protruding from his back.

    Ed writhed in pain on the ground, the impact had shredded his black leather jacket and his blood had stained the floor. He coughed up even more blood. Ed looked up as he heard McCarthy¡¯s footsteps approaching ¡ª terror nestled within. He closed his eyes and tried to shrink back, but the pain was too intense. He opened his eyes in shock when McCarthy¡¯s hands gently pulled him to his feet. Then he saw it. As McCarthy¡¯s hands were lifting him from the ground, he saw it. McCarthy was missing the pinky finger on his right hand and the ring finger on his left was gone. He was missing two fingers.

    Bloodied and bruised Ed croaked out, ¡°What happened sir?¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s face contorted with annoyance, his eyes flashed to the missing digits on his hands as he helped Ed stand. McCarthy mumbled something of an apology and handed Ed a high-grade healing pill. Ed almost too stunned at McCarthy¡¯s mutilation and compassion uttered an equally mumbled thanks and popped the pill. The sensation of regrowing flesh and the light itch that followed was a both pleasant and unpleasant feeling. McCarthy looked the black man up and down and produced a black leather jacket ¡ª that looked identical to his shredded one ¡ª from his pocket and handed it to the old Psyker.

    ¡°Ed.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to lose my temper¡­¡± McCarthy subconsciously stared at the places where his fingers used to be. ¡°After I left your house¡­ I¡­¡± McCarthy trailed off as he realized they were standing out in a hallway and shocked teachers and students gawking at them. McCarthy¡¯s face turned a light red an he awkwardly nudged Ed.

    ¡°What?!¡±

    McCarthy grunted, ¡°Say something¡­ you¡¯re making me look bad.¡±

    Ed screamed in his mind. YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!!! He took a deep breath. Rubbed his bald head and then his expression brightened. ¡°Ha! Haha! Hahaha!¡± The laughter grew louder and longer. Soon Ed was slapping his knees and crying tears. The onlookers appeared disturbed. Ed opened his eyes and spotted a freckle-faced boy with red hair, they made eye contact. Ed concentrated and a glazed look passed over the boy¡¯s face and he began taking slow steps towards them. Ed wiped a tear from his eye for dramatic effect and bellowed out one last laugh.

    ¡°Wow boss!¡± Ed clapped McCarthy on the back. McCarthy¡¯s face made a very irate expression at being called¡­ ¡°Boss¡±. But Ed ignored him and ploughed on, ¡°You really did warn me that I would fly through the door if I took a hit from you! Man, this practise spar was the best decision ever, I¡¯ve learned so much from you!¡±

    Taking a cue, McCarthy nodded solemnly. ¡°Yes, well¡­ I warned you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you did and I told you!¡±

    ¡°Yes, you did¡­ What did you tell me?¡±

    ¡°That I wouldn¡¯t break a single bone! You owe me 1000 spirit stones ¡ª as per our agreement!¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s face flushed and alternated between shades of red and purple. The students and teachers however had gathered around and were starting to ask questions. Ed grinned salaciously.

    ¡°Mr. Edmund, what were you and McCarthy doing here?¡± The young freckled boy with green eyes looked with adoration at Ed¡¯s boney figure, the glazed look still plastered on his face.

    ¡°Oh ho ho! Well, you see¡­ As a Psyker, it¡¯s sometimes hard to take attacks from cultivators (and vice versa)! McCarthy was just giving me some pointers. Then, we were having so much fun ¡ª because we¡¯re such close friends and good brothers ¡ª that I dared him to hit me with just 0.5% of his power!¡± At this point Ed paused for a breath and gestured expansively, ¡°Because¡­ McCarthy is the strongest in the school after all!¡±

    The students and teachers nodded sagely and freckle-faced boy¡¯s eyes grew wider with each word. His adoration for Ed and McCarthy seemingly swelling up like a balloon. Ed smiled at them and continued, his eyes carefully locking with everyone¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°He told me if I could take 0.5% of his power without having a bone broken, I would get a full 1000 spirit stones!¡±

    ¡°Golly gee! That¡¯s such a hot deal!¡± The freckled-faced boy gleamed with eagerness.

    Ed nodded solemnly, ¡°Well I couldn¡¯t back down, and McCarthy had promised to heal me if I got hurt ¡ª because there¡¯s no one more stand up and peaceable and fun-loving than our Chancellor!¡± Ed winked at the freckle-faced boy and popped a mental suggestion in his mind.

    ¡°Gosh darn it, ain¡¯t that the truth! I remember reading how Mr. McCarthy once cured an entire village because he couldn¡¯t rest without doing a good deed for the day!¡± The freckle-faced boy turned and faced McCarthy with a look of obsession.

    McCarthy looked ill.

    ¡°That¡¯s right little Timmy! Don¡¯t you know it! Anyways, our McCarthy being a stand-up guy and all, blasted me through that door and fixed me up right away! Look he even gave me a jacket!¡± Ed lifted his jacket to show his newly knit together flesh, ¡°See, he fixed me up all good!¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Ooooooo!¡± The crowed gushed in unison ¡ª the glazed look had spread to everyone in the group. The crowd hummed with unnatural jubilation.

    ¡°What a great guy!!! I¡¯m sure a guy like him would just end up giving me 5000 stones instead of 1000 ¡ª because that¡¯s just how generous he is!¡± Ed¡¯s grin took a malicious turn as he proffered his hand to the unfortunate Chancellor.

    A series of ¡°Oh yes!¡± and ¡°How true!¡± and the occasional ¡°Indeed!¡± rippled through the people as they transfixed their gazes on the Chancellor. McCarthy looked truly and positively sick. He wordlessly and lifelessly placed a clinking bag in Ed¡¯s extended hand.

    Everyone in the crowd cheered and Ed laughed heartily. Ed swept a meaningful gaze over the group and exclaimed, ¡°Now be sure to tell the whole truth ¡ª and nothing but the truth ¡ª to all your friends! Only Joseph McCarthy can keep us safe! He¡¯s the strongest!¡±

    The crowd nodded in agreement and dispersed in a bizarre fashion. Ed almost tottered over from the mental exertion, he steadied himself and popped a few Psychosis Pills to ensure he wouldn¡¯t run too low. His hands slipped across his bald head as he rubbed it in agitation. He was drenched in sweat. But let McCarthy be unhappy with that dammit! Ed grinned, wiped his brow and extended the bag of spirit stones back to McCarthy.

    McCarthy looked at him ¡ª a hint of disgust on his face ¡ª then turned and walked back into his office, a blanket floated up from inside the office and blocked the doorway. Then some wooden splinters were flung into the blanket, pegging it into place. McCarthy did not take the bag.

    Ed looked after his boss with confusion. ¡°Hey boss!¡±

    ¡°Do. Not. Call. Me. That. Ever.¡±

    ¡°Yes Chancellor!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s ¡®sir¡¯ not Chanc ¡ª¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice trailed off and the sound of him huffing could be heard from behind the sheet.

    Ed smiled, ¡°Glad to know you¡¯re feeling better.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± The word was quiet, almost too quiet for Ed to hear.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Ed prodded.

    ¡°Keep the bag, come in here after dusting off a bit.¡±

    Ed grinned, levitated some splinters and dirt from his pants and walked through the sheet and threw up a barrier behind him to stop potential listeners from eavesdropping their conversation. Ed found McCarthy sitting on his chair, behind a pile of wooden rubble, sitting thoughtfully, his hands steepled as he pondered.

    Ed pulled up a couch from the corner of the room and sat in front of his boss and waited. Ed reached into his mind, double checking Jannes¡¯ elusive presence. The veteran Psyker¡¯s presence pulsated lightly in his mind, as if eager for the conversation. After all, it¡¯s not everyday you hear someone else is trying to take out one of the most powerful men in the world. After a few moments, McCarthy spoke.

    ¡°Ed¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to break my door or desk.¡±

    Eh¡­ there¡¯s something wrong with this confession. Ed poked McCarthy a bit. ¡°¡­What about me?¡±

    ¡°I am very sorry about ruining your jacket¡­ it was a nice jacket.¡±

    ¡°¡­ What about my body?¡±

    ¡°¡­ What about it?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Never mind.¡±

    ¡°A wise decision.¡±

    Ed sighed. You can¡¯t win ¡®em all. Ed switched gears, ¡°So Chancellor, what were you talking about¡­ that bit about a purge?¡± Ed nervously glanced at the two absent fingers from McCarthy¡¯s hands.

    McCarthy¡¯s thoughtful gaze hardened, then relaxed. ¡°One of the Martial Arts Department Head¡¯s assistants ¡ª Shilo Tavrin ¡ª tried to kill me. I drew and quartered him with my own hands¡­ but he was good.¡± McCarthy lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers, ¡°I¡¯ve grown arrogant¡­ a young sop shouldn¡¯t have come close to killing me.¡±

    ¡°Wait? It was an assassination attempt?!¡±

    McCarthy nodded.

    Ed sucked in a deep breath, ¡°Light untold.¡± Ed rubbed his head furiously and leaned back in his chair, mumbling over and over again, ¡°Light untold¡­¡±

    McCarthy reached into his pocket, his hand steady, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck it in his mouth. He glanced at Ed. Ed was having a hard time processing the news. McCarthy casually said, ¡°Ed, I can¡¯t prove it was Mel¡­ But I know it was Mel. I¡¯m going to kill him.¡±

    Ed was shocked. This was big, another war within the Sect of Sagacity was brewing. Communists were everywhere¡­ Ed double-checked Elder Quan¡¯s oil-like presence in his mind. This was juicy stuff, Quan would have to give him a big payout. Ed just needed to faithfully play the role of a loyal subordinate.

    As the smell of tobacco filled the room Ed sighed, ¡°You have a bad history with the name ¡®Mel¡¯¡­ first Melacandor and his wizards and if that ain¡¯t enough we got Melankomas and his jarheads. Dammit! McCarthy are you sure?! Maybe Shilo was working alone ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Like an assistant would move without his master¡¯s instructions,¡± McCarthy flippantly replied.

    ¡°But sir, we¡¯re talking about a massive conspiracy here¡­ they¡¯re out to git you! I don¡¯t think there¡¯s an assassin in the world willing to go toe to toe with Mel.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡± McCarthy puffed contentedly on his cigarette, gripping it with the space left by his absent ring finger. He rolled it around thoughtfully. ¡°Elderweiss could do it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a good idea¡­ Why don¡¯t you do it?¡±

    ¡°Shut up Ed. I can¡¯t reveal my strength just yet¡­ besides¡­ we can¡¯t just assassinate Mel. That¡¯s not my plan. We kill him, but we need to get him to show his hand. If Elderweiss can fight him, I can exterminate all his followers.¡± McCarthy breathed deep and tapped the ash from his cigarette onto the broken remains of his desk. ¡°The problem is we¡¯ve got this thing with Elder Quan brewing as well.

    This is my chance! I can get Jannes out of the crosshairs. Ed rubbed his bald head again. Leaned back. Leaned forward. Leaned back. Leaned forward, ¡°This is a bad idea sir.¡± He finally said, beginning slowly and allowing worry to creep in his eyes. ¡°We¡¯ve been planning this sting operation on Elder Quan for the past few years¡­ waging war on two fronts is a bad idea.¡±

    McCarthy steepled his fingers thoughtfully, ¡°What do you suggest?¡±

    Ed tugged his leather jacket closer to his body and absently twisted one of his golden rings. ¡°It¡¯s a real bad idea to fight two enemies at once. I think we should pick one or the other¡­ if Mel really is behind this¡­ I think we should switch targets. Leave Quan alone and go for Mel.¡±

    ¡°Prick off.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Sir?¡±

    ¡°I said prick off.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so hostile sir¡­¡±

    McCarthy sat up straight and flicked the bud of his cigarette away, pulled out another and lit it. ¡°I said¡­¡± He paused to inhale deeply. ¡°Prick. Off.¡±

    Ed raised an eyebrow, his tone uncertain, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve turned on me haven¡¯t you?¡±

    Ed felt his body go cold. Crap! This isn¡¯t good! He rolled his Psychosis to make sure that Elder Quan¡¯s Psychic presence was hidden within his mind. But it didn¡¯t calm his nerves. McCarthy stared at him like a wounded viper on the verge of striking. Sweat trickled down Ed¡¯s back, ¡°W ¡ª w ¡ª what?¡± He managed.

    ¡°You¡¯ve turned on me, you¡¯re helping that damn Jannes Quan¡­ you¡¯re a double agent aren¡¯t you?¡± The cigarette drained at an unnatural speed and within seconds was already down to the bud. McCarthy pulled out another. His hands shaky and eyes growing red.

    ¡°Sir, that¡¯s uh¡­ that¡¯s ridiculous¡­¡± Ed¡¯s pores worked overtime, covering his body with salt and grime. ¡°You have no proof! Why are you saying this?!¡±

    ¡°Then why are you against me attacking Quan? Huh?! You don¡¯t think I can do it? You don¡¯t think I¡¯m strong enough?¡± McCarthy was almost shouting, his voice erratic and unstable.

    Ed tried to calm him down, ¡°No! Of course, of course you¡¯re strong enough!¡±

    But McCarthy wasn¡¯t buying it, ¡°Don¡¯t play coy with me, we¡¯re a week away from assassinating Quan and you want me to pull out and focus on Mel?! When I don¡¯t even know the scope of his operation¡­ please! Either you¡¯re on Quan¡¯s side or you¡¯re on Quan¡¯s side!¡± McCarthy shook his finger at Ed. The old man backed away and raised his hands in defense.

    Ed reached in his mind for a retort, but not finding anything clever, lamely said, ¡°Or I just genuinely think that this is a bad idea!¡±

    ¡°DAMN PSYCKER!¡± The shout staggered Ed. He felt like his mind almost burst, a sharp pain shot up his cranium. Ed could swear he felt the ¡°gem¡± wiggle in his brain. Blood poured from his nostrils and the boney man let out sporadic shallow breaths. Ed almost tottered off the couch he was sitting on. Blood began to pool at his feet. Ed felt his face drain. What the prick?! What the prick??!!! I can¡¯t feel him at all! Ed panicked, Elder Quan had been knocked out of his mind, somehow. When did a Wind Cultivator have this kind of power? Light untold¡­ I pray he didn¡¯t do that on purpose.

    McCarthy was unaware of Ed¡¯s thoughts, but the usual regret he showed after an empowered shout was gone. McCarthy¡¯s gaze was just as fiery and intense as before. This shout wasn¡¯t an accident of temper. It was a disciplining whip. McCarthy¡¯s tone turned to a low threatening growl, ¡°Get out¡­ get out of here before I kill you. I need to think. Think about whether I¡¯ll trust you or not.¡± Then a tinge of concern ¡ª sharply contrasting with the harshness of his voice, ¡°There¡¯s someone at your house¡­ they don¡¯t seem friendly.¡±

    ¡°Prick.¡± Ed wobbled to his feet up and stumbled out the door.

    McCarthy watched as Ed bumbled out the door and made his way to his house. He leaned back and lit the cigarette he had pulled out. He leaned forward and steepled his hands. ¡°Dammit¡­ why¡¯s he back already? What in bloody Mary¡¯s name is he doing at Ed¡¯s house¡­ when did he get back?¡± McCarthy sucked on his cigarette sharply, coughing as he took in a lungful of smoke faster than he was ready for. He shouted.

    ¡°Matilda!¡±

    The air around McCarthy stirred, bending and twisting. It started out a small tornado, which then grew arms, legs and head. Soon a ghostly and windy form had appeared in front of McCarthy, it resembled a young woman. The shape cocked its head to one side and waited for McCarthy to stop coughing, ¡°I have enemies within!¡± He managed between gasps, ¡°I need you to figure out who. Go to Ed¡¯s house and listen to him at all times! At all times! Do you hear me Matilda?!¡±

    Matilda nodded, non-reactive to McCarthy¡¯s unstable behaviour. Then she vanished.

    McCarthy stood and started to frantically pace around the room, ¡°He¡¯s back¡­ he¡¯s visiting Ed first and not me? Hmmm¡­ Does he want to join Ed in a little scheme of rebellion?! Yes that¡¯s what¡¯s happening! Damn traitors!!! The lot of them!¡± McCarthy kicked his desk¡¯s debris and sent wood flying across the room. His pant leg tore at the point of impact. But McCarthy didn¡¯t notice.

    The cigarette fell from his mouth. He pulled another one out, hands even shakier than before, ¡°I¡¯m being betrayed¡­¡± He whispered to himself softly. Slowly, he lit the cigarette and puffed, his movements spasmatic. He almost collapsed into the sofa chair where Ed had been sitting. He leaned back, he leaned forward. He leaned back, he leaned forward. He cursed. He got up and paced again. Then sat down. His eyes focused and he stared at the window in the back of his office. He looked at the birds, the leaves and the sunlight. Trying to let the light of nature penetrate his darkness, but the gloom would not lift. He whispered again to himself, ¡°I¡¯m being betrayed.¡±

    The room went dark. The air shook and trembled as if being ripped from the very fabric of time and space. The orange glow of his cigarette extinguished. His breathing became soundless as his chest rose and fell.

    ¡°The most abominable of all crimes¡­¡±

    The blackened room seemed to scream into the void, invisible and soundless whistles howling around the man at the center of it all. The world creaked and groaned as if it was going to break.

    ¡°Being a traitor to the people ¡ª no to the person ¡ª who gave you trust.¡±

    All reality seemed to bend around the school Principal, the flesh on his hands wiggled and squirmed ¡ª like large worms were slithering under his skin. Soon bones broke through skin where his two fingers used to be. Flesh creeped up the joints and tendons contracted, soon two brand new fingers had filled the places erasing the injury completely. But McCarthy had entered a trancelike state, he was deep in thought, he didn¡¯t notice the new fingers or the threads of reality twisting around his raw power. The might of an Admiral Rank¡­

    ¡°I need to sweep away this sorry mess of twisted and warped thinkers¡­ I need to start over. Start fresh. Damn communists¡­ the lot of them.¡±

    Then as quickly as it had come, the strange phenomena stopped. Vanished. As if nothing had happened. The sun was shining in the office again and McCarthy¡¯s cigarette was once more alight. McCarthy looked down to his steepled fingers and cursed.

    ¡°Dammit! I didn¡¯t mean to regrow them yet¡­ Prick me! This will give away my power.¡± He looked at his hands, irritation evident in his voice. ¡°Good bye old friends, for now.¡±

    Two wind blades manifested and lopped off the ring finger on his left hand and the middle finger on his right hand. The flow of blood was quickly stopped by another wind, and the wounds rapidly began to heal. McCarthy looked at his two bleeding fingers on the ground intently. The space around them distorted, steam started to rise from the fingers, then they combusted into a pile of ash. With a wave of his hand a light wind carried the ash out of his office to a place unknown. With a sigh he looked at his two hands. He stared at the places where his fingers once were. Then cursed. He mumbled under his breath.

    ¡°Dammit¡­ I forget if these were the fingers.¡±

 Chapter 22: The Beginning of the Crescendo

    ¡°So Oz, tell me again what happened yesterday?¡±

    Ebenezer¡¯s bent form slouched over a foul-smelling cauldron. The old Apothecary tossed in herbs and strange items almost at random while pumping the flame with a foot-bellow. His grainy woodish skin wrinkled with delight as he moved with an agility that sharply contrasted with his misshapen form.

    They were inside Ebenezer¡¯s shop, in the back room where Oz¡¯s Abysmal Potential rating was first discovered. The young boy was sitting idly on a chair waving his feet back and forth as Ed napped in a chair beside him. The smell of poultices, potions and mixtures hung heavy in the air. The sickly-sweet smell of some herbs contrasting with the pungent bitterness in others, the clash was almost nauseating ¡ª Oz had grown used to it, but Ed could barely stay awake in the cloud of scents. Ebenezer had just chalked the difference up to the malleability of age.

    Or maybe the boy has some hidden potential¡­ or not! Hehehe! But it is worth investigating¡­ wood isn¡¯t an element after all. Wait? Or is it? Hmmmm¡­ I¡¯ll have to read up on that¡­ Hehehe! Ebenezer cackled in his mind, then frowned when he noticed Oz was dazing off. ¡°Boy!¡±

    Oz snapped alert.

    ¡°Tell me again. What happened yesterday?¡±

    The small boy fidgeted nervously, twisting absently at the stray cotton threads in his shirt. ¡°Grandpa.¡±

    GRANDPA!!! HE! HE! My time is now! Ebenezer chuckled to himself. Soon Ed¡­ soon I¡¯ll replace you in this boy¡¯s heart. Hehehe!!! I need a fellow wood cultivator¡­ I won¡¯t let you turn him into a lame Psyker! Ebenezer cleared his mind and continued, ¡°Lad, you can tell Grandpa Eb anything.¡±

    ¡°Eb?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ Eb¡­ it¡¯s sounds like Ed, please confuse us.¡±

    ¡°O¡­ Okay¡­ Grandpa¡­¡±

    Ebenezer paused to wipe sweat from his brow and took a scoop of grease from an open jar. In one smooth motion he oiled his hair and beard so that they stopped dangling over the cauldron. He popped his greased hand into his mouth and slurped up the excess¡­ whatever it was¡­ and started chewing on it thoughtfully. Then he was back to stirring and pumping. In between huffs and puffs he asked again, ¡°Now boy, what were you gunna say?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a cultibator anymore.¡±

    Ebenezer choked on the grease in his mouth.

    ¡°Hack!¡±

    A wad of grease flew from his mouth and landed into the cauldron and the old apothecary almost stumbled into the cauldron, some of his stray hairs smoked and singed as they contacted the foul liquid. His face turned green as he contemplated the dissolving grease. I don¡¯t think my paste has anything in it¡­ EXCEPT ALL THESE TOXINS AND MY ANTI-AGING FORMULA! Prick! Prick! Dammit! Wait¡­ no one saw¡­ no one knows¡­ I¡¯m sure it won¡¯t be that harmful¡­ Maybe it¡¯ll be good? Probably not. Ebenezer cursed his bad luck, but then thought nothing of it. He then turned to the source of the fiasco and stared Oz down.

    ¡°Boy, what nonsense are you talking about! Tell me something else, tell me what happened yesterday.¡±

    Oz twiddled his fingers then began hesitantly, ¡°I saw the man¡­ the man with yellow eyes from my dreams¡­ he was in the window¡­ he knocked at the door¡­ but when Mama opened the door¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes boy¡­ what happened!¡±

    Oz twiddled some more. Ebenezer¡¯s eyes nearly bulged out of his head with irritation.

    ¡°Out with it lad!¡±

    Oz sighed, ¡°There was no one there¡­ my Mama was so mad at me for scaring her.¡±

    Ebenezer frowned, resembling a thoughtful bullfrog (or a particularly ugly tree), ¡°There was no one there?¡±

    Oz shook his head.

    ¡°That¡¯s a terrible story.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s more to it than that,¡± Ed¡¯s tired voice croaked.

    Ebenzer nearly jumped out of his skin with fright. Hopefully he didn¡¯t see the damn grease ball¡­ But then his seniorly instincts took over and Ebenezer leaned in eagerly, he loved juicy gossip. ¡°What else?¡±

    ¡°I was in McCarthy¡¯s office¡­¡± Ed began drearily, then his eyes cleared momentarily as the hum of psychic energy filled the air ¡ª clearing the cloud of smells around him.

    Ebenezer tapped his foot impatiently.

    ¡°Eh? Why¡¯s it smell like smoke?¡± Ed sniffed the air cautiously as he slowly came to.

    ¡°FIRE! DAMMIT¡± Ebenezer kicked away the bellow and waited for the flame to cool down before pulling it back again. ¡°It¡¯s because all of you are so slow at talking¡­ just out with it¡­¡± He muttered absently to himself.

    Ed shrugged, licked his lips and then continued his tale, ¡°McCarthy told me to go to my house¡­ said someone was there ¡ª acted all weird about it too ¡ª no one was there.¡±

    ¡°I feel shivers down my spine!¡± Ebenezer squirmed and giggled as he stirred the pot.

    Ed look visibly uncomfortable at the sight of a skinny treelike man squirming in pleasure at his story, ¡°That was one of the most uncomfortable things I¡¯ve ever seen¡­ don¡¯t¡­ do¡­ that again¡­¡± Ed slowly trailed off as the noxious smells rocked him to sleep.

    Ebenezer¡¯s face wrinkled again. He turned to Oz, ¡°This¡¯ll be done in a bit boy.¡± The apothecary paused then said, ¡°Be careful you two¡­ McCarthy is never wrong.¡± He stirred the pot and casually said , ¡°And boy¡­ being a cultivator is the highest honor in all the world¡­ it¡¯s also the only way to protect yourself. It is a weapon, the only weapon of war available that both guarantees your life and the lives of those you love. Among other evils which being unarmed brings you, it causes you to be despised.¡±

    Oz nodded absently. Ebenezer grinned, ¡°Damn I¡¯m eloquent. Besides, don¡¯t you want to be a wood cultivator like Grandpa?!¡± The boney man flexed his non-existent muscles and struck a pose. His scraggly hooded robe billowing in the toxic fumes.

    Oz giggled, ¡°No! Papa says that wood cultibators aren¡¯t real cultibators!¡±

    Ebenezer cursed under his breath, ¡°We¡¯ll see if he says the same thing during his surgery next week.¡±

    A knock sounded at Ebenezer¡¯s door.

    ¡°WE¡¯RE CLOSED!!!¡±

    A velvety masculine voice called back, ¡°I know¡­ I¡¯m looking for Ed.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to wait dammit!¡± The old apothecary called back, irritation saturating his tone. Ebenezer scratched his head, he didn¡¯t recognize this voice. Odd¡­ Ed isn¡¯t exactly a man with many friends. Ebenezer spared a glance at Ed¡¯s inebriated form then looked back at the now black liquid in his pot, ¡°Well I suppose it¡¯s done!¡± Ebenezer rummaged about and grabbed a few glass bottles. I¡¯ll have to look over the ingredients for my grease. He arranged the bottles and rolled up his sleeves

    Ebenezer shot a glance to Oz, ¡°Now boy, behold the might of a wood cultivator!¡± Hoisting up the heavy cauldron he poured its contents into the bottles and tossed the heavy pot down with a huff.

    Oz clapped and squealed, ¡°Grandpa¡¯s so strong!¡±

    ¡°Heh! It¡¯s the power of my wood cultivation! Son, if you want to be strong, be like Grandpa!¡± Ebenezer absently corked the bottles as he chuckled to himself.

    ¡°Don¡¯t swindle my son.¡± Ed growled as he slowly woke from his fume induced stupor. The air had cleared now that the liquid had been stowed in bottles, his alertness was slowly returning.

    Ebenezer huffed with indignation, ¡°If my cultivation is so inferior, why is it that you both are coming to me?¡±

    Ed narrowed his eyes, ¡°If you could pick a different cultivation type would you do so?¡±

    At the remark Ebenezer went silent. He turned away, his face blank. ¡°Someone¡¯s at the door for you. Get out. I¡¯ll see you next week.¡±

    ¡°Fine fine you grumpy old coot, I¡¯ll be back next week¡­ Who¡¯s looking for me?¡± Ed stretched and yawned as he rubbed his bald head.

    ¡°Dunno¡­ nice voice though.¡±

    ¡°Dammit¡­ Oz let¡¯s go!¡± Ed checked his gold chains and checked his black leather jacket. His hands gently touched the pockets of his denim jeans. Gotta make sure I¡¯m ready¡­ it better not be who I think it is! Dammit!

    Think no more Ed. It¡¯s me. We need to talk. Jannes Quan¡¯s mental telepathy reached Ed¡¯s mind sharply, almost puncturing it.

    Dial it back knave! Ed rubbed his head with anger as he floated the bottles of medicine into his pocket and grabbed Oz¡¯s hand with his good hand.

    We need to talk.

    All pricking pits! Why are you here???!!!

    We need to talk. Jannes¡¯ tone was insistent, if a telepathic voice could have insistency.

    Dammit Jannes! McCarthy suspects me enough as it is, can¡¯t you git out dammit?!

    Edward¡­ come out here. Now.

    Ed paused. My name is Edmund¡­

    Oh¡­

    Do you have the wrong person?

    Jannes¡¯ voice was quiet for a bit. Black... bald¡­ eunuch.

    I think you have the wrong Ed.

    A moment of silence stretched between the two Psykers. Ed motioned to Ebenezer who gave a silent nod of assent. Ed proceeded to walk with Oz to the back door. He carefully made his way through the stone causeway, shuddering as he passed by Ebenezer¡¯s surgery room. Ed looked back and saw the apothecary was following him.

    ¡°What is it ya damn money grubber?¡±

    Ebenezer lifted his hood up and down and twirled his greasy facial hair, ¡°I have a bad feeling.¡±

    Ed grunted, ¡°Keep your feelings to yourself.¡±

    The trio walked up to the door, paused, then after a deep breath opened it. The two old men peeked their heads out and looked around at the Victorian style houses and let out a sigh of relief, but the smug grin was soon melted off his face at the sight of a handsome man in a baby blue pinstriped suit who seemed to melt out of the shadows. Perfectly combed ghostly blonde hair and green eyes contrasted with Ed¡¯s black skin and bald head. His handsome and angular face standing out and drawing attention from the few passersby.

    Jannes grinned at them and bowed, ¡°Glad you finally come out Ed.¡±

    ¡°Prick.¡±

    Oz shrank back at the sight of the strange man, his hands gripped Ed¡¯s leather jacket closely. Something within the very core of his being seemed to revolt at the sight of the man. Oz had to cling to Ed with all his might to not pass out from an onset of nausea. The box in his mind started rattling uncontrollably as if threatening to burst. His face went pale and the small boy started dry heaving. Ed steadied his tottering son with a heavy hand. An equally heavy gaze landed on the man in front of him. ¡°Jannes¡­ dammit.¡±

    ¡°Why the long face Ed?¡±

    ¡°Why are you here?!¡± Each word was punctuated ferociously, but Jannes¡¯ grin didn¡¯t slide off his face. ¡°McCarthy¡¯s always listening dammit!¡±

    ¡°Chancellor! I am officially not part of this conversation!¡± The apothecary called to no one in particular and glared at the two Psykers. ¡°Keep your damn conspiracies to yourselves, I hear nothing!¡± Ebenezer slowly shrank back into his shop, his eyes were fixated on Oz, but his body was tense as if ready to strike.

    Jannes absently waved the old man off, ¡°Not today he¡¯s not.¡± The handsome man smiled and pulled out a small box of ornate gold gilding set on dark cherry wood from his suit jacket pocket. And extended it to Ed. A light wind ruffled his white shirt, he hadn¡¯t buttoned all the way up and the fabric floated in the breeze exposing a strong chest.

    The box shook.

    Ebenezer backed up a couple more steps.

    Ed hesitated.

    A light breeze ruffled Ed¡¯s hairless scalp, he shuddered.

    The feeling of wind on Ed¡¯s skin filled him with trepidation. He hated the wind. But he couldn¡¯t delay. Ed extended a shaky hand and grabbed the box. The box gently rocked and shook in his hands. He opened the box.

    ¡°EEEEEEEEEE!!!¡±Stolen novel; please report.

    A shrill whistle screamed at him from the box and a misty face lunged at him, teeth bared. Ed dropped the box and stumbled back. The ethereal form jumped at him angrily, threatening to tear into his face with its ghostly claws. With a shout Ed lashed out with a right hook, his hand aglow with psychic energy, his fist eroding a chunk out of the face and passing clean through, from end to end. The two halves separated and fell like a pair of misty leaves.

    ¡°EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!¡±

    The bottom half shrieked as it fell. Slowly getting quieter. Then vanished.

    Ed stared aghast at the pile of white ash in the box. He¡¯d seen a misty figure like this before. He knew what it was. He knew where it came from. His mind ached with the implications. Prick¡­ I killed the Chancellor¡¯s avatar.

    He whirled on Jannes and attacked the man violently, jab after jab sailing out. Balls of shimmering air launched towards Jannes. Jannes laughed as he casually batted each ball away. Crash! Dust and smoke arose as Ed¡¯s errant missiles careened into buildings near Ebenezer¡¯s shop.

    ¡°Now Ed, let¡¯s discuss this like civilized men!¡± Jannes¡¯ quaint grin remained, like it required no effort to deal with Ed¡¯s attacks.

    ¡°Why did you do this?! Do you want to start a rebellion!!!¡± Ed¡¯s chest heaved as he shouted. I killed one of McCarthy¡¯s avatars¡­ prick me¡­ skin me¡­ all pricking hell!

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°What the hell Jannes!¡± Then in a quieter voice Ed continued, ¡°Why are giving me no choice?¡±

    Doors slammed shut. Windows closed. People vanished. The word ¡°rebellion¡± was taboo. Everyone knew McCarthy was everywhere¡­ at the sound or smell of a communist threat he would initiate a great purge. The disembowelled former Head of Wizardry Melacandor was a constant reminder of that. It was just a matter of time before he showed up. No one was safe when the Chancellor descended.

    Jannes pulled out a handkerchief and whipped some dust from his face. He sent his thoughts to Ed. It¡¯s difficult to trust a triple agent Ed¡­ I needed some insurance that you wouldn¡¯t betray the cause.

    Yes! I totally want to be on your side now and help you! Well done! Sarcasm dripped from Ed¡¯s mind, condensing from the steaming rage he felt.

    Jannes was flippant. McCarthy won¡¯t be here for a little while¡­ you killed Matilda¡­ with a little help from my special box of course. Let¡¯s talk¡­ I have an ally on the inside¡­ now is our chance to get McCarthy! He¡¯s weak right now¡­ then ¡ª

    NO! Ed screamed back at Jannes, interrupting the thought transmission. I cannot support this, you will fail¡­ you can¡¯t beat him like this¡­ then my family will be killed as retribution. You do this you¡¯re on your own.

    Jannes sneered. Do you think McCarthy will let you get away after this? Jannes motioned to the pile of white ash.

    Ed knew this was the endgame. He knew this was Jannes¡¯ trap and out of fear he had fallen into it. But there was a way out. Ed could see it, but it would be dangerous. He would have to prove his loyalty to the Chancellor. It would be the only way to keep his family safe. Dammit Jannes¡­ we were supposed to wait¡­ this won¡¯t work! I won¡¯t do it!

    Jannes cocked an eyebrow. Oh?

    Before Jannes could send a follow up question, Ed let out a quiet breath. Then spoke aloud, ¡°Ebenezer¡­ take Oz to my house¡­ Jannes and I need to talk.¡±

    I¡¯m glad you came to your senses. Jannes¡¯ grinned in self-satisfaction as Ebenezer carefully took Oz by the hand and led him away. Ebenezer whispered quietly into Ed¡¯s ears. Ed nodded. The old apothecary disappeared with Oz into the dark doorway of his house.

    Jannes tapped his foot impatiently. Alright, let¡¯s go, we don¡¯t have a lot of ¡ª

    ¡°Elder Jannes Quan, on account of your treasonous crimes against the Sect of Sagacity, by my authority as Head Auditor, I indict you for treason. The penalty is death. Do you wish to come quietly?¡±

    ¡°Please Edward¡­ don¡¯t play games with me¡­ my patience is wearing out and so is our window of opportunity.¡±

    Ed stared at Jannes. ¡°My name is Edmund, Edmund DeSantes, Head Auditor for Section 901. And you are under arrest for sedition.¡±

    Jannes paused. He didn¡¯t expect this outcome. The pause soon gave way to anger and his handsome face contorted with an ugly rage. ¡°You dare stand in my way mouse!¡±

    Ed flicked a series of jabs at Jannes. Balls of air whirred towards the man in the baby blue suit. Jannes melted into the air, as if he didn¡¯t exist, and the balls passed through the space where he used to be.

    It was quiet. Ed was alone.

    Ed breathed deeply and scanned the area, trying to find Jannes. Ed screamed as an ethereal hand punched his mind from behind almost shattering his consciousness. Blood exploded from his ears and he tottered over. The gem in his brain squirmed as if trying to escape his skull. Ed flooded his mind with psychosis placating the animal and steadying himself.

    Another hand swiped at him.

    Ed broke his watch with his mind and a green barrier enveloped him, blocking the psychic attack. Ed steadied himself through the blood and the ringing in his ears. Hand after hand pummelled the green bubble and mad laughter resounded in his skull.

    Puny Psyker! You already have to resort to using life saving treasures? Can¡¯t even take a spanking eh?!

    Ed grimaced. Creak. Crack. Shatter. Like the sound of breaking glass the barrier burst into pieces.

    A ghostly hand shot towards him again ¡ª fast! Ed materialized a fist of his own and fired it at the incoming hand. They collided.

    Pop.

    It was a quiet sound, like the sound of a bursting bubble made of gum.

    Crash!

    Jannes ¡ª eyes wide with shock ¡ª became visible as he and Ed were flung back by the invisible shockwave of air that roiled over them both. Stones, wood and carts disintegrated, and doors and windows shattered from the shockwave. In mid-air Ed ripped the gold chain around his neck apart, a soft warm glow encompassed his body. I a flash all his wounds healed and he gently landed on the ground.

    Ed, seeing that Jannes had not expected the might of Ed¡¯s own Psychic Hand and was down for the count, he launched himself at his unmoving enemy. Jannes didn¡¯t stir as Ed rand towards him. He saw his chance! Ed leapt upon the man¡¯s sleeping form, ripples of energy condensing around his fist into a blue fiery glow. More brilliant than the brightest stars. His black bloodied jacket danced in the air as his fist came crashing down onto Jannes.

    At the moment before impact. Jannes opened his eyes. He sneered.

    Ed blinked. Eh¡­ what happened? Why am I on the ground? Ed was facing the sky, his back on the ground. His body wasn¡¯t responding. He rolled over, pushing his body with his mind, and tried to get up using his left arm. To only roll onto the ground again. His eyes took in the rapidly forming pool of blood from where his left arm used to be. He was too in shock to scream. He tried helping himself up with his right hand. He stumbled forward, face first into the stony street. Both my arms are gone. Ed felt numb. He felt something warm, like a blanket, wrap around his body. He tried to wriggle and worm, but the soft caress of the invisible blanket turned into an iron fist. Slowly, his bloodied form was raised. He stood on his feet. Blood pouring from his shoulders and trickling down his waist. Ed was stunned. His arms were gone. All gone.

    Clap. Clap. Clap.

    He looked up from the ground for the source of the sound. He saw Jannes using his two arms like cymbals. Slapping the dead meat together with undisguised glee.

    Ed¡¯s stomach turned.

    ¡°How?¡± He croaked, his voice a dull raspy sound.

    Jannes let go of Ed¡¯s arms, slid his feet forward like a cat and extended his hands limply forward, ¡°Because you are weak!¡± Jannes relaxed his stance and laughed, he casually strode forward and kicked one of Ed¡¯s arms away. Then thought better of it. He floated up Ed¡¯s arms and tied them together at the wrist.

    Ed looked sick. Jannes gave light laugh, ¡°I don¡¯t want to get them mixed up¡­ though your left hand is gone¡­ still¡­ quiet fine specimens. The body parts of Commander Grade Psykers are necessary ingredients for some¡­ important products.¡± Jannes paused and looked at the rings on Ed¡¯s only hand. He smiled, ¡°Nice rings¡­ May I? Seeing your hands are a little tied up¡­ You have no problem with it? Great.¡± Jannes reached to the rings and took all of them off from the floating arms. He held them out and looked at them carefully.

    ¡°You¡­¡± Ed managed between gasps. His vision was fading. He was getting tired. But he wasn¡¯t done yet. ¡°You are¡­ siding with the witches?¡±

    ¡°Witches? Me? Never¡­ Maybe!¡± Jannes pulled the gold rings close to his eyes and stared at them greedily, trying to decipher the way to unbind them from Ed.

    ¡°Luceat!¡± Ed hissed weakly. A flash of light exploded.

    Jannes let out a scream as the rings burst into flames of brilliant light. Ed slunk forward, exhausted and out of strength as Jannes clawed at his face in anger. Ed allowed himself a small smile. ¡°Those rings have a curse on them¡­ if you stare into the light¡­ your eyes will burn in their very essence. Though¡­ Though¡­ I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware of that by now. Oh and there¡¯s one more¡­ effect ¡ª"

    ¡°I¡¯m blind! I¡¯m pricking blind! ED! I WILL BURY YOU!¡±

    ¡°Too¡­ late¡­¡± With a soft thud Ed¡¯s body fell to the earth. Ed allowed himself a small smile. He whispered on the wind to the only man who could hear. ¡°Protect¡­ my family.¡± Before he passed out Ed heard a small voice whisper back.

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    ¡°I will skin you alive with my own hands!¡± Jannes shut his eyes, he ignored the scratch marks on his face and the burning sensation in his eyes. They itched like an incarnation of fire. He wanted to tear out his own eyes! Jannes focussed his mind and sent out a web of psychic energy to feel his way around. Slowly, he started walking towards Ed¡¯s body¡­ soon faster¡­ and faster. ¡°I will kill you!¡± He hissed as he drew near to the old man¡¯s weak form.

    Jannes body froze, right before he reached Ed¡¯s body.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t I move?!¡±

    Soft footsteps sounded. The light in the sky faded, turning from brilliant yellow to grey. The echo of steady steps bounced off the building. The gentle click and clack of dress shoes on cobblestone sent a chill up Jannes¡¯ spine. The steps were slow and measured and the smell of tobacco wafted in the air. A gentle breeze danced around Jannes¡¯ body then enveloped Ed¡¯s, slowly funneling blood back into his body. Jannes couldn¡¯t see but he knew, he knew Ed was being helped. He knew McCarthy had come. But his psychic web couldn¡¯t find him. Where is he? Dammit! Why can¡¯t I see him!!!

    Jannes focused on the body he could see and tried to gather a psychic hammer, he snarled wildly, ¡°I¡¯ll murder you Ed!¡±

    ¡°Ed is forbidden to die without my permission.¡±

    ¡°McCarthy! You dare?! Show yourself!¡±

    ¡°Get out of my sight Jannes, I don¡¯t have time to fight you. I have someone else on the chopping block.¡±

    Jannes¡¯ hammer melted into the air. The Psyker froze. But he recovered quickly from his shock and smiled sinisterly, slowly, he turned himself ¡ª resisting the wall of wind that had held him in place. McCarthy frowned. But didn¡¯t increase his wind pressure, rather he erased it. At the sudden loss of pressure Jannes almost stumbled over. Before he steadied himself, McCarthy spoke.

    ¡°There is only one reason I haven¡¯t killed you yet.¡±

    ¡°As if it was in your power to do so!¡± Jannes spat a bloody wad of liquid onto the ground.

    McCarthy ignored his ravings, ¡°I need information. What do you know about Paderborn?¡±

    Jannes froze. His face twitched. Then he hissed at McCarthy, ¡°How do you know that name?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll need you to visit my office Elder Quan.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t tell you anything dammit!¡±

    McCarthy reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, he hesitated, then put it back. He glared at Jannes. The Psyker shrank back.

    ¡°Jannes¡­ the air you breathe is mine. Don¡¯t run¡­ it¡¯ll only make you out of breath.¡±

    Jannes face split into a wiry grin, ¡°You don¡¯t have time for me! There are other things that demand your attention.¡±

    McCarthy frowned. Then cursed. Then vanished.

    Seeing McCarthy had disappeared Jannes dusted off his now dirty blue suit. After straightening out his outfit, he casually walked to Ed. He pointed at Ed with a finger and a beam of psychosis flared. But it was stopped by McCarthy¡¯s wall of wind that was healing Ed¡¯s body.

    ¡°I think I have enough time before McCarthy get¡¯s back¡­¡± Jannes put both his hands together and pulled them back towards his stomach. The air around him hummed a reverberated, a thick blue light began to build up in his hands. Sweat poured from his brow as he accumulated energy. The Psyker gathered the energy slowly and truly. He was focussed on his task, he didn¡¯t see a shadowy form move in the open doorway.

    Crack!

    A stone tile split, and a light brown wooden root shot straight into Jannes¡¯ neck. He swore and moved at the last minute, but it wasn¡¯t enough. The sharp root severed his jugular and blood sprayed from the open wound. The energy fizzled out in Jannes¡¯ hands morphing into blue flames that scorched his hands ¡ª giving him third degree burns. Jannes recoiled, doused the flames with his mind and floated a handful of healing pills to his mouth. He looked around, but saw no one.

    ¡°SHOW YOURSELF WRE ¡ª"

    He let out a gargled scream as root after root punctured his body. Jannes downed more pills and with a swipe of his hand severed the roots with a psychic blast, he then jumped and floated in the air. Still trying to staunch the flow of blood from his many wounds. Root after root shot out of the ground in an attempt to perforate him. Jannes swayed and dodged in the air.

    ¡°Why won¡¯t these wounds heal faster?!¡± He shouted in irritation and whacked back another handful of pills. He staggered in the air, almost falling over. At that moment of lost balance, a root twice as fast as the others and twice as thin shot through Jannes¡¯ chest, then retracted, leaving a small hole in his heart. The flesh knit back together visibly, muscles, skin and tendon intertwining and creating fresh meat. The Psyker¡¯s healing pills were of a high grade. The medicine and blood loss made him dizzy. Jannes¡¯ eyes flared, he had no choice he had to retreat. As a barrage of roots left the ground, nearly a hundred at once, Jannes focussed his mind on a distant Thought Transfer point. Then winked out of the sky as roots sailed passed where his body used to be.

    ¡°Hehehe!¡± A wheezy and spindly old voice squeezed out into the air, ¡°Can¡¯t have you taking away my ducats now, can I?¡± Ebenezer stumbled out of his dark doorway and sauntered over towards Ed¡¯s body. He grabbed Ed¡¯s arms from the ground and pulled out some jars from his pocket. He stuffed the arms in the jars and tossed some water and powder inside. He corked it. Shook it and let the mixture fix. Satisfied with his handiwork he put Ed¡¯s arms under his arms and stared at the black Psyker.

    Ed¡¯s eyes slowly opened. He took in the scene. The arms in the jars, the absence of Jannes and let out a small smile.

    ¡°Thanks old friend.¡±

    Ebenezer huffed, ¡°Don¡¯t expect a discount.¡±

    Ed looked at his arms. ¡°Old man, could you put them down¡­ you¡¯re holding them weirdly.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying, but I¡¯m stuck in your arms!¡±

    Ed almost passed out again from anger.

    Edna bustled about the kitchen of her and Ed¡¯s home. Lilywen and Gwen were playing house in the living room. Doing their best to imitate her finesse in the kitchen, but kindergarteners aren¡¯t known for their mobility skills. Edna smiled as Lilywen scolded Gwen for putting too much ¡°food¡± in the pot. The scolding was a little too realistic. Gwen cried. Lilywen berated her for crying. Edna felt some irritation rise in her chest, the scene was too familiar. She rummaged in her drawer and pulled out a wooden spoon but before she could make it over the crying had stopped. Oz had put down his book and was there before her ¡ª consoling the twins with his one arm. She puckered a small scowl.

    If only my man was half as good as my boy. Edna shook her head solemnly.

    Ebenezer had dropped off Oz from the usual apothecary appointment, without Ed. The apothecary had given the most suspicious of reasons. But Edna let it pass, the man was crazy anyways.

    She sighed. Where are you my husband? Then went back to her work.

    Edna carefully selected a nice medium sized cucumber and added it to her growing pyramid. Satisfied with the amount and quality she stuffed them in a few jars. Added some salt and garlic, a lot of dill, then then the water. Carefully she sealed the jar. As she moved on to the next one she felt a small tug at the corner of her apron. It was Oz.

    ¡°What is it boy?¡±

    ¡°Mama, I saw the man with yellow eyes again!¡±

    ¡°Hush child! Don¡¯t be scaring me all over again, almost gave me a heart attack last time.¡± Edna huffed and scooped her boy in her arm. Stowing her pickle jars in the cupboard with the other. She rested her son on her hip and gently tousled his hair. He giggled. Her other two children charged her like raging tigers, indignant at this show of favouritism. Tiny hands bunched up in protest at her despotic regime of matriarchal domination.

    ¡°Mama! Up!¡±

    ¡°Up! Mama!¡±

    The revolution succeeded.

    Soon all three of her children were climbing on her body. One minute she was a dinosaur chasing them through the jungle. The next they were the hunters and she was their prey. One time she was the Auditor and they were the taxes¡­ a very boring game¡­ Ed liked it though. As all government activities it soon descended into a torrent of bureaucracy and infighting. As she separated Lilywen¡¯s finger from Gwen¡¯s nose she felt Oz tug at her again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t answer the door Mama!¡±

    ¡°Door? What about the ¡ª¡±

    Knock knock.

    Edna turned her head. ¡°Boy, stop watching the window¡­ it¡¯s making you scared!¡±

    ¡°Mama! Don¡¯t go!¡±

    Edna bent down, her round hips accented as she put her hands on them, ¡°Why, is it the scary man from your dreams?¡±

    The small boy nodded.

    ¡°Lilywen! Do not put your toe in Gwen¡¯s nose! Put it down! Good girl. Child you gimme grief!¡±

    Knock knock.

    The caller was persistent. Edna sighed, a mother¡¯s work is never done. She looked at her panicked son.

    ¡°Come boy, let¡¯s get the door together.¡±

    ¡°Mama, I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get the door together.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Okay.¡±

    She picked up the shivering boy in her arms and after managing to peel herself away from the twins she walked to the door just as the knocker pounded the door again.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming, I¡¯m coming!¡± She set Oz down and arranged her outfit a little bit. She was wearing a purple summer blouse and a white apron. Her hazel eyes and curly black hair made her soft black skin glow with all the vigour of youth. She hardly needed to beautify herself, but a girl¡¯s gotta do what a girl¡¯s gotta do. Oz stared at her in wonderment. She looked at him and smiled mischievously.

    ¡°Sometimes your Papa likes to play the ¡®Postman Game¡¯...¡±

    ¡°Can I play too?¡±

    Edna coughed, ¡°You can¡¯t play that game with me.¡±

    Knock knock.

    Edna rolled her eyes, ¡°What an impatient man.¡± With a grin she leaned in to the peep hole. Her face went white. The door shattered as a hand broke through. Thin lean fingers with sharp black nails wrapped around her throat before she could move. Her hazel eyes met yellow eyes and a wolfish grin.

    She struggled. The hand turned. Crack.

    Oz screamed.

 Chapter 23: The Courante

    Edna collapsed on the floor, her eyes lifeless. The hand shredded through the door like it was paper. Soon a tall lanky man with blonde hair and a blonde pencil thin moustache stepped in, his brown leather shoes crunching on the splinters. He stepped over Edna¡¯s body, not bothering to even spare a glance at her still open hazel eyes. A grey vest, pants and white shirt neatly arranged adorned his gangly frame. Eyes burning yellow behind spectacles and a wicked wolfish grin which seemed to sweep unnaturally up his face, almost reaching the corner of his eyes, he regarded his handiwork with apathy. His nose was hooked and his teeth sharp and pointy. Nails black and skin as white as a ghost. He was the apparition of death.

    Oz wanted to scream and cry, but when those amber eyes rested on him, he couldn¡¯t move. Even the box in his mind seemed to cower in fear. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not like I remember¡­He¡¯s¡­ scarier.

    The yellow-eyed man licked his lips salaciously, as if savouring the sensation. He looked pensive as if calculating something.

    ¡°I only managed kill ten of Ed¡¯s children¡­ now his wife¡­¡± His voice was eerily calm, not at all the voice of someone who had just committed murder, more like the voice of someone recounting secretarial duties. His burning yellow eyes fell on the shivering boy. He approached, his eyes focussing on little Oz. Slowly his hand reached out and patted Oz¡¯s thick black hair. ¡°You seem familiar to me little boy¡­ no matter¡­ do you know where your sisters are?¡±

    Oz managed to shake his head jerkily. Small tears streaked down his face. The sensation of the man patting his head revolted him. All he felt was fear. Intense fear. He kept shaking his head. It was all he could do.

    The yellow-eyed man looked at him almost sympathetically, ¡°That¡¯s okay¡­ you¡¯re¡­ frightened, yes? Terrified. I¡¯ll put you out of your ¡ª¡±

    A sharp gurgle shot out of the man¡¯s mouth. His amber eyes were laced in confusion. As blood trickled out of his mouth he looked down to his chest. His eyes widened. There was a gaping hole in his chest and his heart was missing. He turned around as red fluid leaked out of the crater in his chest and bubbled out of his mouth. When he saw who was behind him, he smiled.

    ¡°McCarthy.¡± His voice was surprisingly steady at seeing the Chancellor gripping his still beating heart in his hand.

    ¡°Lee.¡± Came the flat and hard reply.

    Squish.

    The hand closed, mashing the organ to pulp. Lee sunk down to his knees and stumbled forward, almost crawling towards the Chancellor. Then collapsed in a pool of blood. His smile still etched on his face, he slowly drawled out, ¡°I see you¡¯ve advanced¡­ I didn¡¯t even sense your presence.¡±

    McCarthy didn¡¯t respond. A wind flickered around his hand carrying the red fluid and flesh off into the distance. McCarthy raised his hand casually and a wind flung Lee¡¯s body like a ragdoll out the door.

    ¡°Get out of my sight. Worm.¡± He looked over his shoulder at Lee¡¯s splayed out form spread across the grass. ¡°Traitor,¡± he hissed vehemently.

    McCarthy stooped down and felt Edna¡¯s pulse. He frowned. His eyes misted over as if he was about to cry.

    ¡°This reminds me of that night,¡± he said to no one in particular. He looked up from his observation and locked eyes with Oz, he gave a start, as if noticing Oz for the first time. His ears could dimly pick up the laughter of the twins in the back rooms of the house. He cocked his head to one side as if taking in the tragedy of the scene. A small tear leaked out of the misting eyes.

    McCarthy felt his chest clench, ¡°How many times must I see things like this?¡± It was a whisper so quiet Oz could barely hear it. McCarthy¡¯s blue eyes focussed on him. Then he gently blew, and a whisper seemed to surround every facet of the house. Oz¡¯s eyes drooped. The laughter of the twins stopped. Three gentle thumps of children hitting the floor sounded out.

    ¡°Dormies.¡± Came the whisper.

    McCarthy squatted down beside Edna¡¯s body and closed her eyes gently. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, your children will forget this day¡­ and they won¡¯t see what will come next.¡± He gripped her head in his hands, then paused, ¡°If the Green Hills are real¡­ you of all people deserve to be there¡­ Da Shan would be proud of your swordsmanship.¡±

    He turned his hands.

    Crack.

    Her neck snapped back into place. McCarthy grimaced then pulled out a bag and floated her lifeless corpse into the bag. Then stowed it in his pocket.

    I can¡¯t let Ed find this out. McCarthy tried to think of a solution.

    As he thought he let a wind sweep up the splinters and with a wave of his hand the door was fixed. It was good as new, as if it hadn¡¯t been torn to shreds a few moments ago. The breeze rolled around his body, cleaning off dust and debris and arranging his hair.

    McCarthy sighed, from the depths of his soul. I was too late¡­

    He pulled out a cigarette.

    He lit a match.

    He inhaled.

    BOOM!

    The door exploded in a shower of splinters. The cavity in Lee¡¯s chest had filled in and his spindly form tore through the door. Eyes alight with fury. Teeth exposed in a wicked grin. He lashed out, his black nails seeming to rend reality itself.

    McCarthy was caught of guard. The claw was too fast. McCarthy¡¯s eyes widened, and his lips twitched as the clawing attack raked through his back, scooping out flesh and vertebrae as it passed.

    Lee¡¯s face exploded with glee. Almost giggling he twisted his body and prepared to swipe again with his other hand.

    BOOM!

    Lee¡¯s face crumpled. His nose shattered, and his cheekbones fractured. Before he could wind up his swipe McCarthy¡¯s foot had connected with his face ¡ª sending him flying back out the door. The impact created a shockwave that cracked the walls of the house and the shattered pieces of the door flew into the air. McCarthy¡¯s eyes burned with blue flame and his voice softly crooned out as he kicked.

    ¡°Dwi Chagi.¡±

    Lee tried to right himself as he flew in the air. But his face was full of panic. Before Lee could recover himself, McCarthy leapt after him with unnatural speed and dropped an axe-kick on Lee¡¯s chest in mid-air ¡ª sending his body careening into the ground with another powerful shockwave.

    ¡°Naeryeo Chagi.¡±

    BOOM!

    The secretary¡¯s body smashed into the earth with meteor-like velocity. The ground exploded in a cloud of dirt and grass obscuring Lee¡¯s fate. McCarthy slowly levitated down to the ground, about ten feet from Lee¡¯s point of impact. He puffed absently, then realized his cigarette had fallen out of his mouth at some point. Keeping his eyes fixed on the smouldering earth. He lit a cigarette and looked around casually. Thankfully Ed¡¯s house is a little out of the way¡­ No one needs to see this.

    He gestured absently, ¡°Sasha¡­¡±

    A ghostly girl materialized. She looked a little older than Matilda, perhaps a teenager. Her wispy face and form looked at McCarthy attentively.

    He smiled at her and pat her head, ¡°Make a wall¡­ no one comes in or out.¡±

    She smiled. Then vanished.

    McCarthy¡¯s eyes jerked to the clearing cloud of smoke. They widened a bit. Lee had climbed out of the crater. His clothes were shredded where McCarthy¡¯s foot had struck his chest. The chest cavity had sunken in, resembling a crater on the moon. But the sound of popping bone and growing flesh filled the air. His body was knitting together before McCarthy¡¯s eyes. The Chancellor sniffed. There¡¯s no smell of medication in the air¡­ it must be his¡­ cultivation? But to have this level of healing¡­ it would mean¡­

    ¡°You can¡¯t kill me McCarthy! I¡¯m stronger than you think.¡± Lee¡¯s voice was still strained, from the pain of McCarthy¡¯s attacks, but it was confident. His nose regrew before McCarthy¡¯s eyes, cartilage and skin wove together as if guided by an invisible hand. The Chancellor just looked at his secretary with a cold expression.

    ¡°How long?¡± McCarthy asked the question that was burning in his mind. How long have you been a traitor? ¡­ Maggot.

    Lee merely grinned wolfishly. ¡°When Quan get¡¯s here¡­ you¡¯re a dead man¡­ I just want you to realize that¡­ you can¡¯t escape from me¡­ I¡¯ll hunt you down¡­ forever.¡±

    McCarthy snorted, ¡°Big words from a man who can¡¯t take a little kick.¡±

    ¡°You seem to have not realized it yet¡­ how¡¯s your back? Feeling better yet?¡± Lee licked his black nails as if fantasizing about the taste of McCarthy¡¯s blood.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Ha!¡± McCarthy simply laughed. ¡°Little tricks¡­ it¡¯ll heal eventually¡­ I barely feel a tickle like this.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see how long you last.¡±

    ¡°Big tough guy¡­ I¡¯m curious ya damn dog. You¡¯ve been acting all tough, talkin¡¯ big. But I ain¡¯t seen jack from you. Tell you what! I¡¯m feeling generous, first move! Yours. Take it.¡± McCarthy drained his cigarette and pulled out another one. He lit it. As if unconcerned about the opponent in front of him.

    Lee¡¯s grin stopped. He quietly said, ¡°Pride comes before the fall.¡±

    McCarthy sneered, ¡°You learn that when I dropped you?¡±

    ¡°Imbecile.¡± Lee breathed deep. His eyes burned brighter. Like the sound of a thousand peals of thunder. Like the crashing of an avalanche. He spoke. In the common tongue!

    ¡°By the light of the moon.¡±

    The cigarette fell out of McCarthy¡¯s mouth.

    A rumble of thunder pealed across the sky. Blackness following in its wake. Like a sheet drawn over a bed, darkness blanketed the heavens. The sunlight was extinguished. The yellow fiery ball turned to a dim pale white. But the light under the sky was blood red. A white moon. A black sky. Red light.

    Lee¡¯s smile nearly split his face, ¡°Surprised?¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s blue eyes went dim, ¡°Witch¡­ you¡¯re a with the witches! You dare speak the language of men to the heavens?!¡±

    Lee faded into the red light. His voice seemed to come from everywhere.

    ¡°But in a sieve I''ll thither sail, and, like a rat without a tail, I''ll do, I''ll do, and I''ll do.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s face went ghost white, ¡°You damn cannibal! How many lives have you extinguished?! How many pounds of flesh have you consumed?! We¡¯re cultivators!!!¡±

    CHOMP!

    Lee¡¯s face materialized, bathed in red, four times the size as it was before. He bit down on McCarthy¡¯s neck, swallowing his entire head. The Chancellor shouted with rage.

    ¡°TEMPESTATIS!¡±

    The wind howled with manifest fury and rage. Forcing apart the red maw that had engulfed McCarthy¡¯s head. The red teeth had touched the soft flesh of McCarthy¡¯s neck for a moment but was forced back by the fierce gale. The wind raged, and Lee¡¯s red jaw screeched as it was forced open.

    McCarthy bounded away once his wind had forced the jaws apart. His clothes were drenched in sweat. His breathing heavy.

    Lee materialized again, not a head, but his full body now ¡ª no longer bathed in red. This time his shadow seemingly alive and rippling with vitality. He appeared in an instant, faster than McCarthy could respond. He slashed out with laughter, black claw marks sailing through the air.

    McCarthy leapt ¡ª but he wasn¡¯t fast enough.

    Plop!

    His right leg was lopped off and dropped to the ground. When he landed he stumbled, his lack of leg throwing him off balance, and he ended up in heap. His chest heaved with exertion and his face paled at the loss of blood

    Lee¡¯s laughter echoed in the blackness.

    ¡°You will be delicious!¡± He screeched as he charged for McCarthy. He pounced on the prone Chancellor, his eyes hungry with desire and burning with hatred.

    But then his face froze.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t I move?¡± Lee¡¯s voice was doubtful¡­ he was shocked. Lee¡¯s body was suspended in mid-air. In mid-strike ¡ª and he couldn¡¯t break free! Then, his eyes nearly fell out of his head as McCarthy¡¯s leg regrew in front of his eyes.

    McCarthy frowned at the lack of pant leg. He snapped his fingers and a wind carried the fabric off his old leg and stitched it over his new leg in seconds. He stood and dusted himself off.

    Lee¡¯s eyes were full of panic.

    McCarthy looked at him and gestured absently. Lee was lowered from the air and made to stand straight, a wall of wind binding his every move. Lee tried to speak but found his jaw was constricted by the solidity of the air around him. He couldn¡¯t even blink. Soon tears began to leak out of his eyes. McCarthy floated up a cigarette from his pocket. It. spontaneously lit.

    Lee was shocked. How can he¡­ how can he do that?

    McCarthy sat down, supported by and invisible chair, then reclined as a ghostly throne appeared behind him. He casually blew smoke into Lee¡¯s eyes as he puffed absently. He tapped his cigarette and let some ash fall to the ground. His eyes looked at the entrapped secretary with fondness. As if recalling the good old days. But then his expression hardened, and aged. His expression resembled that of a tired old man, despite his youthfulness. He began slowly, his voice low and steady.

    ¡°It¡¯s tiring Lee¡­ it¡¯s tiring to pretend you¡¯re weak, just to let people show their true colours. You must have reached the upper levels of Captain Grade right? Both you and Jannes. Logically, an Abnormal Cultivator like yourself and a Psyker like Quan ¡ª both at upper Captain Grade ¡ª should be able to kill a Rear Admiral.¡± McCarthy flicked his cigarette away.

    Lee¡¯s eyes were red. His mind was running at a million miles a second. He was afraid¡­ truly afraid.

    McCarthy continued.

    ¡°People think I¡¯m insane. I assure you I¡¯m not. No I¡¯m not¡­ I¡¯m not crazy. I can just smell treachery¡­ first it was Da Shan¡­ then Ed¡­ now you¡­ People I trusted.¡± He paused, then leaned forward and steepled his fingers.

    ¡°What is the wind Lee? Ah, I forgot¡­ you can¡¯t speak. I¡¯ll tell you. The wind is the movement of particles. Did you know, everything is made out of particles? My wife¡­ Maybelle¡­ she came up with this theory and ¡ª well.¡± He paused, then shuddered as an unpleasant sensation rippled across his body, the sensation of being watched. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll save that for another time¡­ besides¡­ I shouldn¡¯t talk too long¡­ maybe you¡¯ll escape. I have one question for you¡­ your answer will determine what I do next.¡±

    Lee¡¯s face was freed. Lee gasped and blinked his eyes furiously, trying to clear the carcinogenic smoke from them. He spat viciously at McCarthy as soon as he recovered, ¡°I¡¯m not telling you a damn thing!¡±

    McCarthy ignored the defiance and casually spoke.

    ¡°What do you know about Paderborn?¡±

    Lee froze. He stuttered mechanically, ¡°How¡­ how do you know¡­ that name?¡±

    McCarthy sighed. ¡°Not a whole lot it would appear¡­ that is the reaction of everyone who doesn¡¯t know more than I do¡­ or to be more precise¡­ can¡¯t reveal anything no matter what I do to them.¡±

    ¡°HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME?!¡±

    ¡°I hate witches¡­ I will kill you all. I hate communists¡­ I will kill them all! Liberty must reign even by force!¡±

    ¡°HOW DO YOU ¡ª¡±

    ¡°A cannibal has no right to speak!¡± McCarthy¡¯s voice was quiet, but it was heavy like a brick. Lee¡¯s head snapped back as if it was struck by steel not words. Lee¡¯s eyes and ears dripped blood.

    The hapless secretary gasped, ¡°What are you?¡±

    ¡°Invincible.¡±

    McCarthy looked up at the sky and peered off into the distance, as if he saw someone looking at him from way up there. Then he stared at Lee, ¡°I have to get back to work¡­ I need to find where Paderborn is hiding¡­ don¡¯t worry Lee, I can sense his eye. He¡¯s not coming for you. But I suppose he wants to see how much power I¡¯ve been hiding. I¡¯ll grant you a quick death¡­ but it will be the most painful experience of your life.¡±

    McCarthy closed his eyes. Lee¡¯s reality altering art vanished instantly. The blood red light vanished. The black sheet over the sky evaporated. Not erased but replaced. A deeper blackness took its place. It was cold, like the void of space. Empty. Devoid of reality. The fabric of the universe trembled around McCarthy.

    He opened his eyes.

    They were blue¡­ all of it was blue. With a living flame.

    ¡°Respirare.¡±

    The word filled the air. But emptied it. It was as if it never had been spoken and if it always had been spoken.

    The void shattered. The sun returned as if it never had left. The grass was green. The crater from when McCarthy had axe-kicked Lee was gone. The splayed limb was gone. The birds were singing, everything was as if it was a normal day. Lee was gone.

    McCarthy stood. His throne vanished. He looked at Ed¡¯s house. The door had been repaired. He looked at the sky¡­ Gone already Paderborn? Don¡¯t worry¡­ Da Shan and I haven¡¯t forgotten about you¡­ I will find you, you damn communist.

    McCarthy walked, slowly, towards the Sect Headquarters, he started speaking. To no one in particular. His voice was in a lecturing tone as if talking to a student that wasn¡¯t there, ¡°We are neither living nor dead¡­ we are just loose arrangements of matter¡­ just specks arranged in an order¡­ we are nothing. There is nothing. All is nothing. All will return to nothing. All that exists¡­ is power.¡±

    As he walked, a cloud in the sky, that resembled a woman. A beautiful woman. If a cloud could look beautiful. It frowned.

    McCarthy whispered again, ¡°You weren¡¯t right about everything May¡­ not everything.¡±

    Jannes dropped out of the Thought Realm, landing on the ground in a heap. His clothes full of small holes from where Ebenezer¡¯s roots had pierced him. The ground was hard and cold. There were no plants in sight. Just the long black humming needle that was the Transfer Point. Jannes stumbled as if drunk along the earthen floor, his hands finding purchase on the cold brown walls. The room was small, dark and square, a single torch hung from the back wall ¡ª opposite an empty archway that led to a flight of stairs. Jannes slowly inched along the wall till he reached the base of the stairs. Slowly, one step at a time, he stumbled his way up. The walls were transparent like glass. He could see bright lights all around, like stars in the night sky through it was midday. He paused to catch his breath. He always wondered if this place was truly above his planet, or if it was just an illusion.

    He walked for hours.

    Comets sailed by. Stars pulsed with life. The clouds on the world below rotated slowly. He had seen all this before, if it was easier to breath it would be easier to appreciate. The air was thin and cold¡­ he was still dizzy from the Thought Transfer and the lack of oxygen wasn¡¯t helping. The distance was too great to do in one jump, it took too great a toll on his body. But he sensed that if he didn¡¯t make the jump¡­ somehow¡­ just somehow¡­ McCarthy would have been able to hunt him down. But up here, he was safe. Finally, he reached the top of the stairs and he plopped himself down on the black and white tile floor. The air was so thin he could barely breath. He pulled himself to his knees and began to crawl forward.

    The room was massive, it seemed to be without walls and stretch toward infinity. Only a few dozen feet from the top of the stairs was a man. He was sitting on a chair ¡ª a simple wooden chair ¡ª and his elbows were resting on a table. Both the chair and table were unadorned and crafted of black wood. His hair was wispy and blonde. Across his mouth was a pencil thin moustache. He wore a white shirt with a grey tie, vest and pants. His eyes were a soft amber. His face was handsome and perfectly shaped, his nose was straight, and he had high cheekbones. On the table in front of him was a pedestal, also crafted of simple black wood. But around the pedestal were twisting patterns, like ivy scrawling up a wall. Faces, shapes, plants and words ¡ª as if etched by a masterful hand. Suspended in the air above the pedestal was a bright yellow eye, aflame with fire. The eye looked down at the planet below, as if focussed on a particular point.

    Then it shuddered and squealed.

    The man at the table clutched his chest in pain and sweat poured down his brow. A small trickle of blood dripped from his mouth.

    He smiled.

    Then wiped the blood and gently stroked the eye, soothing it. It wriggled and squirmed, almost purring like a cat. The man withdrew his hand and thoughtfully rubbed his moustache.

    The eye stirred.

    It turned and focussed on the crawling Jannes.

    The strange eye seemed to smile, then it spoke, it¡¯s voice like the scrapping of stones, ¡°Massster¡­ the weak one¡­ he¡¯ssss come¡­¡±

    The yellow-eyed man turned and faced Jannes, who had crawled within ten feet of him. His smile fell, ¡°It¡¯s good you remembered to crawl this time¡­ it¡¯s important to remember your place.¡±

    The voice was neither light nor heavy. Nor loud nor soft. It was indescribable. It was just a ¡°voice¡±. Completely neuter, with no characteristics. Devoid of emotion and without passion.

    Jannes shivered when the man spoke to him. He mustered up his courage and spoke, ¡°Master ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do not say my name¡­ failures like you are forbidden from speaking my name.¡±

    Jannes recoiled as if slapped. He began again, ¡°What do I do now? He knows who I am..."

    The man smiled.

    ¡°You need a new face.¡±

    The man¡¯s hand descended towards him, the black nails contrasting with the white skin. Jannes triedto scurry away but it was like he couldn¡¯t move or change his orientation no matter how much he tried. The man¡¯s hand descended towards him, the black nails contrasting with the white skin. annes whimpered in fear as the hand approached, but he couldn''t escape.

    A sadistic grin warped the man¡¯s face, ¡°This might hurt a little.¡±

    The cold empty room was soon filled with shrill screams.

 Chapter 24: Sarabande

    ¡°Glad to see you are feeling better.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s my wife?¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s face went blank at Ed¡¯s question. It had been a couple of days since Ed¡¯s battle with Jannes and McCarthy¡¯s fight with Lee. Ebenezer had been put in charge of Ed¡¯s health and the apothecary¡¯s poultices had speeded his recovery. Somehow, Ebenezer had managed to reattach his arms, with full functionality. These now functional arms were on the edge of McCarthy¡¯s desk. Ed had leaned in close, a gesture of disrespect he didn¡¯t have the courage for before and McCarthy never had the tolerance for. But¡­ things had changed between them.

    Ed asked again, slowly and carefully.

    ¡°Where is my wife?¡±

    It was grey outside; the usual sunshine wasn¡¯t pouring through the massive window behind McCarthy. His suit was a dark grey today, three-piece ¡ª vest tie and all ¡ª black leather shoes though. Black belt as well. But a plain white shirt and socks. A few days worth of facial hair growth decorated the Chancellor¡¯s face. His black hair no longer slickly gelled, but dishevelled and wild. His blue eyes red and stormy ¡ª like he hadn¡¯t slept in days. The deep smell of tobacco and the mountain of ash on his desk were a testament to his mood.

    McCarthy leaned back in his chair slowly, the wood creaking under his movement. He ran a calloused hand through his hair and sighed deeply.

    Ed waited.

    McCarthy steepled his hands, his two missing fingers obvious.

    Ed waited some more.

    McCarthy pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. It was black this time, not the normal white ones. Ed¡¯s eyebrows went up, he recognized the brand. They were illegal in some parts of the Union, and prohibitively expensive. Empyrium Black¡­ the tobacco in those cigarettes was exceptionally strong, they came from a rare breed of tobacco that had been augmented with magic power ¡ª they were listed as poisonous in most Botany Books.

    McCarthy lit the cigarette. He inhaled. Deep. Then exhaled, slowly. A thick black cloud of noxious smoke hung in the air for a moment before vanishing. Just a light whiff of it almost made Ed pass out from dizziness.

    ¡°Would you like¡­¡± McCarthy began slowly, pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he spoke. ¡°¡­ Your hand back?¡±

    A draft of wind opened a desk drawer. A jar with green liquid and a shrivelled ebony hand floated on top of McCarthy¡¯s desk. McCarthy landed the jar right beside Ed¡¯s stub. Ed looked at his hand and stared suspiciously at McCarthy.

    ¡°Where. Is. My. Wife.¡±

    Ed asked again. It was a statement not a question.

    McCarthy breathed deep from his cigarette again. He stared at Ed deeply. But Ed would not back down. McCarthy sighed again.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t make it in time¡­¡±

    ¡°Is she¡­¡± Ed began quietly. But McCarthy raised a hand, stopping his speculation.

    The Chancellor continued, ignoring Ed¡¯s interruption, his voice dry and pained.

    ¡°¡­ Lee injured her¡­ deeply¡­ but she¡¯s not dead.¡±

    Ed¡¯s eyes lit up, he almost leapt over the desk. ¡°She¡¯s not dead?¡±

    McCarthy shook his head slowly and wearily. The motion seemed incredibly difficult for him. Wrinkle lines seemed to appear around the edges of his eyes, like he had aged enormously in that one moment.

    Ed didn¡¯t notice.

    ¡°When can I see her?¡± The eagerness in his voice amplified by the pain he felt at her absence.

    McCarthy looked away from Ed¡¯s hungry expression and whispered softly, ¡°In three days time¡­ she should be stable enough for you to visit. But, the procedure will take ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Thank you!¡± Ed stretched across the desk and seized McCarthy¡¯s hand in his own, his stub bumping the Chancellor¡¯s wrist. Ed shook McCarthy¡¯s hand fiercely, tears pouring down his face as he mumbled ¡°thank-you¡± over and over again.

    McCarthy was too shocked to tear himself free of Ed¡¯s grasp.

    Eventually the old Psyker pulled away and bowed to McCarthy, ¡°Thank you so much for saving her! I know under your care she¡¯ll get better! I know this! I know this! I can wait three days until I see her! I can wait forever¡­ without her¡­ without her¡­ I didn¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t know what love was¡­ We¡¯ve been married for sixteen years, did you know that? I can¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ll be leaving now¡­ I¡­ I¡¯m so happy¡­ I was so scared¡­ I was so scared¡­¡± The tears began to fall afresh, Ed quickly grabbed the jar with his hand and sprinted out the door, before McCarthy could say anything.

    McCarthy stared at his open office door. Then closed his eyes and crumpled the black cigarette in his hand.

    Ed popped his head back in the door, ¡°And sir¡­ if you keep up this habit you¡¯ll get ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get out!¡±

    Ed smiled bashfully and vanished again.

    McCarthy leaned farther back in his chair and grinded the cigarette in his hand to powder. The motion fuelled by guilt and rage ¡ª a potent mixture for an unstable man.

    ¡°Prick.¡±

    The word contained far more gravity than it should. It seemed to alter the heavens with its weight. The Chancellor brooded. The sky grew darker. He gave a start and looked out the window, as if noticing the grey sky for the first time. He waved his hand and whispered under his breath. Like the switching of a painter¡¯s canvas everything was changed, everything was bright and sunny once more.

    He got up from his chair and sprinted down the halls in a hurry. He made his way down the stairs and traversed corridor after corridor until he was in front of Lord Elderweiss¡¯ door. A black cigarette hung in in his mouth, he breathed deep. Drained it. Flicked it against the door. Grinned to himself. Then knocked.

    ¡°Who is it?¡± Came the tired voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s me.¡±

    A groan sounded on the other side of the door, ¡°No more! No more projects you fiend! I can¡¯t keep up with your ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve just come to check up on her.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ what¡¯s there to check up on, she¡¯s ¡ª¡±

    ¡°DON¡¯T SAY IT!¡±

    The gilded oaken door rattled on its hinges as McCarthy¡¯s shout shook the wall. Silence followed from the other end of the door. McCarthy¡¯s chest heaved from the outburst of anger. Slowly, the door creaked open. McCarthy flung it open, stormed in and shut the door. He walked down the long eerie room, ignoring the creepy blue lights that hung in the air. Soon he reached Lord Elderweiss¡¯ skeletal frame. The cultivator was at the end of a desk, surrounded by book shelves that seemed to stretch on to infinity. The eerie light doing little to make him appear any less ghastly than usual.

    The man¡¯s skin was taunt against his boney frame, his purple and gold robe exceptionally dirty. His fingers black with ink. His green and orange eyes staring vacantly at stacks of papers and diagrams ¡ª scattered all over his desk, walls and floors. When the sound of McCarthy¡¯s feet stopped behind him. The elderly looking man turned around. He stepped into McCarthy¡¯s personal bubble and stabbed a finger at his face.

    ¡°You keep interrupting my research! I was so close to solving Da Shan¡¯s cuneiform code!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you said last year¡­¡± McCarthy responded dryly, backing up a little bit to gain some space. The Chancellor noticed the mess. The mess irritated him, but not as much as it used to, the urge to clean, the desire to combat the erratic and flighty nature of wind had lessened. McCarthy shook his head. I¡¯m changing¡­ He pulled out a black cigarette but before he could light it a boney hand swatted it away. Elderweiss looked more shocked than McCarthy, like it was done on reflex.

    ¡°WHAT THE PRICKING HELL ELFSKIN!¡± McCarthy roared in anger a bubble of energy burst from his mouth like a torrent.

    It was heading for the research.

    ¡°Not the papers!¡± Elderweiss shrieked and crushed a gem in his hand.

    Fwomphf!

    A blue wall materialized behind the skeletal cultivator, Elderweiss shouted as he was flung back into the barrier by the force of McCarthy¡¯s shout. Books were flung in the air and one of the shelves collapsed under the trauma of the blow. Dust and shards of wood flew everywhere.

    McCarthy breathed heavily as books and papers seemed to fall from the sky in an infinite amount. His face contorted in pure rage, ¡°No one! No one tells me what to do! I AM THE CHANCELLOR!¡±

    ¡°You have a damn problem!¡± Hissed Elderweiss as he slowly got up, his face a mix of anger and resignation.

    McCarthy fumed at the antagonistic response, ¡°You think you can match me Elderweiss?!¡± Paranoia creeped into his voice, his eyes going wild and his voice into a low threatening growl, ¡°Do you also wish to betray me?¡±

    ¡°No you damn twit! This is a sensitive area¡­ experiments are being run here!¡± A shrivelled finger pointed at the black cigarette on the ground. ¡°That¡¯s an Empyrium Black¡­ the smoke from that tobacco would contaminate my experiments!¡± The cultivator gestured expansively to the beakers filled with organs and fluids behind the blue barrier. ¡°Are you trying to ruin years worth of work!¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Creak. Crack. Shatter!

    The barrier dissolved into glistening blue fragments. Elderweiss looked around and sighed. He looked at McCarthy, his rage gone, only resignation remained. ¡°That gem¡­ it wasn¡¯t cheap¡­¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s face blanched, he turned away. ¡°Leave me an invoice.¡±

    Resignation turned to relish, ¡°Will do¡­ He! Anyways, let¡¯s take a look at this cadaver you¡¯ve brought me.¡± Elderweiss wrung his hands together and hopped over to one of his shelves and pulled out a stack of books, seemingly at random. He stepped back, a look of satisfaction on his face as the wall faded to mist and dissolved, revealing a secret room. In the room was grey machine. It hissed and whirred, steam pouring from openings and vents. It was round and filled with knobs and dials. Inserted in the top of the machine was a giant glass tube filled with green liquid and suspended in the tube was a woman. Her hair was black and curly, even underwater. Her skin smooth and black. Her oval-shaped face and long lashes complimented her attractive figure. And if her eyes were open, they would be hazel.

    It was Edna.

    Dead.

    Lifeless in everyway.

    McCarthy and Elderweiss slowly sauntered up to the tube. The Chancellor stepped close, he opened a palm and placed in on the glass and stared at her unopened eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness and regret.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t make it in time to save you¡­ and I¡¯m sorry for what I¡¯m about to do¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    Elderweiss¡¯ face turned red. McCarthy had become oblivious to his presence and didn¡¯t realize he was speaking out loud. Elderweiss coughed.

    McCarthy gave a start. He looked at Elderweiss, his eyes still brimming with tears.

    Elderweiss paused¡­ not knowing how to handle the increasingly erratic Chancellor. A boney hand stroked an even bonier jaw, his jewellery jingling as he stroked. He began slowly.

    ¡°What exactly are you about to do?¡±

    McCarthy looked away and fumbled for a cigarette, a white one this time. He stuck it his mouth, his hands shaky. His words were equally shaky, ¡°I told Ed¡­ I told him¡­ she was alive.¡±

    ¡°Prick.¡±

    ¡°I know I shouldn¡¯t do that¡­ especially after what happened to me¡­ especially since I know¡­ I know¡­ I know I¡¯m wrong.¡± He clenched his fists and his eyes steeled as he lit the cigarette with a match, ¡°But I mustn¡¯t lose Ed. I have leverage over him! I have it!¡± Smoke filled the air as McCarthy stared at the tube, his eyes bleeding obsession. He turned to Elderweiss, ¡°We need to bring her back¡­ we can test Da Shan¡¯s work on her!¡±

    Elderweiss was aghast, ¡°WITCHCRAFT!¡±

    ¡°No¡­ it¡¯s not Witchcraft¡­ it¡¯s different¡­ I can feel Da Shan¡¯s work is different!¡±

    ¡°Yeah! Because it won¡¯t resurrect people from the dead! It doesn¡¯t do that! It does something else! It¡¯s not black magic, it¡¯s not even magic!¡±

    ¡°What does it do then?!¡± Retorted McCarthy in anger.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡±

    ¡°DAMMIT ALL!¡± McCarthy slammed his fists against the glass ¡ª the tempered glass stronger than it looked. Elderweiss¡¯ eyes opened wide in fear, his white irises almost fading into his pale skin. Though the glass was treated¡­ still.

    He screamed, ¡°Are you trying to ruin ¡ª wait¡­ wait a minute¡­ I just noticed something.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s eyes went wild.

    Elderweiss continued unabated, rather more focussed, his orange and green eyes stared back at McCarthy¡¯s blue, ¡°When you shouted¡­ you didn¡¯t use Wind Cultivation¡­ you used ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say it.¡±

    Elderweiss jerked his chin defiantly, ¡°She¡¯s my sister I can talk about her research as much as -¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say it. We¡¯ll talk later.¡±

    ¡°¡­ As long as we talk. I was never able to figure out that method¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll help you.¡± McCarthy waved his hand absently. His eyes took on a cruel glint as they shifted around, eyeing every dark corner of the room, ¡°But not here¡­ You never know who¡¯s listening.¡±

    Elderweiss snorted, ¡°Let them listen¡­ I¡¯ll just rip out their bones, and who the frig is them?¡±

    McCarthy looked around. His eyes manic as they roved all over the room. Unsatisfied with his visual search he breathed deep from his cigarette, draining it fully. McCarthy exhaled a cloud of smoke and started twisting his fingers in the air like a puppeteer. Soon the smoke swirled it into the shape of a ship. The little ship had sails and looked like galleon, complete with rigging and even a tiny smoky crew. The smoky captain relayed orders to his misty crew and the sails were unfurled and an invisible draft of wind billowed them out. The ship floated across the room, as if searching for something, the crewman in the crow¡¯s nest with a spyglass to his eye. A few moments later it returned to the Chancellor. A breathy whisper floated from the ship Captain to McCarthy. He nodded absently and scratched the stubble on his face. Satisfied with the report he gently blew on the ship. It dissolved.

    Elderweiss was flabbergasted. McCarthy¡¯s strength was unfathomable to begin with¡­ he just kept getting stronger and stronger.

    Now certain no one was listening McCarthy gestured to Elderweiss. The other cultivator leaned in, his gold and purple robes touching McCarthy¡¯s grey vest.

    ¡°We need to talk about Paderborn.¡±

    *******

    Ed nearly slipped on the wet cobblestone road that led to his house. Ebenezer reached out a hand and caught him.

    ¡°Thanks Ebenezer.¡±

    ¡°Just call me Eb,¡± the old apothecary grinned, showing his crooked smile.

    ¡°If I¡¯m Ed and you¡¯r Eb how are people going to tell us apart?¡±

    Ebenezer was incredulous, ¡°¡­ You¡¯re black.¡±

    ¡°I MEANT IN CONVERSATION!¡±

    The medicine man waved away Ed¡¯s shout with a casual gesture, ¡°Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. How¡¯s the hand holding up? Did I stitch it back well?¡±

    ¡°Did a damn fine job you old coot!¡± Ed opened and closed his hand as if to demonstrate his fine motor skills.

    ¡°That¡¯s hardly a feat of strength¡­¡± Ebenezer¡¯s dry response sent Ed¡¯s prideful car crashing into the wall.

    The dark skinned Psyker stared at the Apothecary with angst, ¡°Then get a load of this!¡±

    Ed took his southpaw boxing stance. He switched his feet a couple times for good measure, did a couple weaves and threw a few soft jabs at an invisible opponent. He spotted an oak tree at the edge of his property. Pretty sure that tree¡¯s on my land¡­ pretty sure¡­ Whatever! Ed cleared his mind.

    ¡°Look here ya blind fool!¡± Ed pointed at the massive tree.

    Ebenezer turned his head lazily and regarded the giant oak. It was at least twenty feet in diameter, no doubt a result of a certain someone washing away his medicinal poultices nearby. Ebenezer¡¯s nose itched at the light scent of herbs that wafted into his nose. Ebenezer smiled. He felt a kinship to this tree. Little wooden friend, shall I help you out? He thumbed his left nostril. Then plunged the digit deep within to mine gold. He excavated the precious metal from the crevice and rolled it into a nice ball and flicked it ¡ª but it flew off target! The gooey ball landed in Ed¡¯s hair ¡ª or lack of hair, on his bald head. The golden missile splattered onto Ed¡¯s scalp, but the Psyker was too hyped up to notice. Ebenezer was horrified at what he had done. He was aiming for the tree! Ebenezer¡¯s hair, ¡°gold¡± and skin were all saturated with nutrients that benefited plant life ¡ª on account of his wood cultivation ¡ª he just wanted to help a kindred member of plantkind! As the mineral deposit dissolved into Ed¡¯s scalp Ebenezer watched, powerless to stop it.

    Almost instantly a black curly hair sprouted on Ed¡¯s head.

    Ebenezer¡¯s jaw dropped in shock! My snot can grow hair?! Damn!!! I need to analyze this! The market is huge! Oh prick me¡­ if my snot can grow hair¡­ what the frig is my hair gel going to do to Oz?

    ¡°ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!¡±

    ¡°DAMMIT STOP SHOUTING!¡± The apothecary rubbed his ears in irritation, then exclaimed with heat, ¡°Light untold! I was thinking something important about Oz and I just forgot!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t go thinking ¡®bout ma boy.¡±

    ¡°Just shut up and show me yer damn circus powers!¡±

    ¡°IT¡¯S PSYCHIC POWERS!¡± Ed punctuated the statement with a devastating left straight. A wobbling ball of ethereal energy plummeted into the oak. The tree rippled up and down, like a snake swallowing its pray. The deep thrum of bass filled the air. Then.

    Boom!

    The oak tree exploded into a cascade of splinters.

    Ed smiled triumphantly.

    Ebenezer put his hand to his heart and muttered, ¡°I feel a strange sense of pain¡­ like I¡¯ve lost a friend.¡±

    Ed turned to face his companion? ¡°See, now that¡¯s what I¡¯ve been ¡ª¡±

    ¡°What did you do to my tree?¡±

    The voice was gentle and quiet. But full and weighty. Ed and Ebenezer both jumped in surprise. Then turned. And were surprised.

    In front of them was an old man ¡ª they didn¡¯t notice him approach. He looked like a farmer. His back was bent and hunched over, and deep scars crisscrossed his brow. His beard was patchy, as if some of it had been torn out. He had a straw hat over his head and white hair peeked out from underneath its brim, his eyes were a glittering brown ¡ª seemingly dancing with light ¡ª and his skin was wrinkled with age. He wore a plain white and dusty tunic, tied around the waist with a rough rope. His feet and legs were bare and marred with scars. In his right hand was a gnarled old hoe, the metal rusty, the wood old and grainy. He leaned on it as if favouring his right side.

    ¡°Who¡¯s asking?¡± Began Ed slowly. He¡¯s never seen this man before. But if he was the self-professed owner of the tree¡­ this could be a problem.

    ¡°Me.¡±

    Ed almost shook a fist in anger, but upon seeing the old man¡¯s wizened smile he reigned in his anger.

    Ebenezer bowed his head and stepped forward, ¡°Dear sir! It was this monster who has so brutally slain that one of plantkind! Please, exact of him the maximum penalty for his arsonous act!¡± The apothecary¡¯s voice was laced with righteous indignation, then his tone became low and conniving. ¡°He has lots of money he can certainly pay!¡± Ebenezer chuckled, his eyes devious.

    Ed¡¯s mouth went slack. ¡°Sell out!¡± He shouted.

    The old man raised his hand to stop Ebenezer from retorting.

    ¡°My name is Piers¡­ you can repay me with labor¡­ I need help ploughing my fields.¡±

    ¡°Eh? Ploughing? How do I know you even own the land?! Dammit those fields ain¡¯t been ploughed since they was a forest ¡ª and they¡¯ve been a forest forever!¡± Ed shook his fist angrily at the old farmer.

    Ebenezer turned and was about to retort on the farmer¡¯s behalf but was interrupted by Oz¡¯s tearful cries.

    ¡°Papa! Papa!¡±

    At some point during their conversation Oz had flung open the house¡¯s door and sprinted out to them, his body covered in black poultice. As he ran tears streaked down his face and the visible skin was a fiery pink, globules of medicinal fluid dripped off him as he ran and smoke arose from wherever the sticky liquid touched the ground. A foul smell filled the air, more putrid than usual. There was definitely something wrong.

    ¡°Eh? Oz what¡¯s wrong why are you ¡ª¡±

    Blood. Oz coughed up red and black blood and collapsed before he could reach the men. Ed shouted. Ebenezer wrung his hands in worry. The ploughman looked on, his brown eyes aglow.

    ¡°What the hell happened to my boy?¡± Ed whisked off the liquid with a burst of psychic energy. He scooped up Oz in his arms and placed a hand on his forehead. ¡°Dammit, his mind is on fire! What the hell is happening?!¡± Ed glared at Ebenezer accusation evident in his eyes.

    Ebenezer¡¯s face was filled with worry and he rummaged through his pocket and with one flick of his wrist emptied out an array of potions, herbs, poultices and mixtures. He fumbled through the pile, searching for something in his panic.

    Ed shouted, ¡°His mind is fading! What the hell?! He¡¯s dying!¡± Tears began to fall down Ed¡¯s face, ¡°DO SOMETHING!¡±

    ¡°He took three doses at once!!! The recipe has been altered, I don¡¯t ¡ª¡±

    ¡°WHAT THE HELL?! OZ NO!¡±

    The boy¡¯s breathing became erratic, his entire body began to turn beet red. The boy spasmed and gurgled out a massive amount of black blood.

    The old farmer spoke.

    ¡°Open his mouth.¡±

    Ed and Ebenezer froze. What did this stupid farmer say?!

    ¡°Open his mouth.¡±

    Ed mutely complied to the strange command and opened Oz¡¯s mouth. The boy coughed up more blood.

    The farmer stepped up to Oz and held an old gnarled finger over the boy¡¯s mouth. He raised his rusty hoe and dug into his finger, slowly slicing it open. A small drop of red glittering blood, flecked with gold, fell from the finger into Oz¡¯s mouth. It dissolved on his tongue.

    Immediately the boy was well. His flushed skin returned to normal. The beads of sweat on his body vanished and his eyes fluttered open. Oz¡¯s brown eyes met the farmer¡¯s. The old man smiled.

    ¡°You might need to come back every now and then for a little more¡­ but you should be fine.¡±

    Ed and Ebenezer¡¯s mouths were open in stupefaction.

    Ebenezer shuffled close to Ed and leaned in, his nasally voice grating Ed¡¯s ears, ¡°This is what you call a crouching tiger hidden dragon! Make nice¡­ be a good farm hand!¡±

    Ed groaned deeply and set down Ed on his feet. Though he was deeply suspicious of the farmer, he was also deeply grateful. Ed bowed to the farmer. ¡°Sir¡­ thank you¡­ my son¡¯s life is worth more to me than you could ever know.¡±

    ¡°Eh? A man my age might have an idea.¡±

    Ed looked up hastily to see if he had offended the old man, but the mirthful grin on his lips told him otherwise. Ed continued, ¡°I¡¯d be honored to help you plough your fields¡­ what¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°My name is Piers. Piers the Ploughman.¡±

 Chapter 25: Not Everyone Can Stay in Neverland

    Ed gently patted the heads of Lilywen and Gwen. He spoke to them in a soft soothing tone, his voice like the gentle crooning of a dove ¡ª laced with psychic power. Their soft blue eyes moist and brownish-orange curls unwashed. Tear streaks were visible on their cheeks and irritation on their skin ¡ª from constantly rubbing their eyes. Ed was weary, consoling the twins was not easy. He barely had time to console himself. McCarthy had said that she was still in critical condition¡­ But dammit if she dies. Ed nearly clenched his fists out of reflex, but noticing the curly hair in his fingers he held back. Ebenezer still wants me to kill Deloris¡­ depending on how it goes with my wife¡­ We¡¯ll see McCarthy¡­ We¡¯ll see.

    ¡°Papa¡­ where¡¯s Mama¡­¡± Lilywen¡¯s voice was anxious and it cut through the haze of Ed¡¯s jumbled thoughts. The two twins were in Ed¡¯s bed with him, they wouldn¡¯t let him out of their sight. They panicked, as if he could disappear at any moment. They couldn¡¯t even sleep alone. The house which seemed so warm and safe was now dark and foreboding. Since that day, that day when they had fallen asleep in the middle of the day, since that day, the day that Oz had screamed, such a bloodcurdling sound¡­ they hadn¡¯t seen their mother. Oz had changed too. He didn¡¯t look at them anymore, he stared off into the distance. Mumbling something to himself over and over. Ed had tried to talk to the boy, but he was closed off. His eyes desperate. Haunted. But Ed¡¯s hands were full with just the twins, he had to leave Oz on the back burner.

    He amped up the psychic energy in his voice as he gently shushed Lilywen, stroking her hair softly. But he was cautious. Ed couldn¡¯t use too much psychosis¡­ it could permanently damage the twins ¡ª they were too young ¡ª or even create a slave complex between him and them. But his power was all that was keeping them from going hysterical. He could feel it, in their minds, the instability, the wildness. He himself wasn¡¯t in a good emotional state, if the twins were too emotional it might break him. He had to be careful. Edna was everything to them, her warmth, her food ¡ª it was what had made this place home.

    Lilywen¡¯s voice came again, resisting his volleys of psychic energy, ¡°Papa¡­ where¡¯s Mama¡­¡±

    ¡°Little lamb¡­ Mama¡¯s fine¡­ she¡¯s just away on a trip.¡±

    Lilywen wasn¡¯t so easily persuaded, ¡°Why didn¡¯t she take us?! Mama promised she¡¯d never go anywhere without us! She promised!¡± Lilywen¡¯s tiny hand clutched Gwen¡¯s underneath the blanket.

    Gwen¡¯s lower lip jutted out, though she didn¡¯t speak like her sister she didn¡¯t need to for Ed to understand. The quivering lip and barely contained sobs was more than enough. Gwen whispered, ¡°I want Mom¡­¡±

    Seeing her sister¡¯s bravery, Lilywen increased her protests, ¡°Papa Mama promised! She promised!¡±

    As if the cries of a child could undo the hand of time. Ed was weary and cynical¡­ he mustered a weak response, ¡°Hush Lily, Papa¡¯s still here¡­¡± Ed fumbled in his mind for an excuse, for a reason, for anything to placate them. An idea! ¡°You remember how Oz is sick?¡±

    The twins nodded gravely.

    ¡°Now Mama left to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Is Mama sick?!¡± Lilywen gasped.

    ¡°Er¡­ no¡­ I¡¯m saying ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mama¡¯s sick¡­¡± Gwen¡¯s whisper made Ed break out in cold sweat.

    ¡°Mama¡¯s sick!¡±

    ¡°Lilywen¡­ listen¡­¡±

    ¡°NO!¡±

    The shrill scream of a child on the verge of a tantrum grated Ed¡¯s ears. Then, a soft nasally whisper came to his ears, a nasally voice that was no longer quite as annoying to listen to as it used to be.

    Hey Ed!

    It was Ebenezer.

    The crying of the twins was making it difficult to hear him. Ed gathered the twins into his arms. They flailed and struggled crying out ¡°Mom!¡± Ed buried his own sorrow deep within himself and comforted his girls, rocking them back and forth. Gently shushing them. He amped up the psychosis just a little over safe levels, for a little bit it wouldn¡¯t do any damage. He focused his mind, blocking out their sobbing, he reached for their minds. Touching them gently.

    Hey Ed!

    He slipped. Gritted his teeth and tried again.

    Hey Ed!

    ¡°All pricking hell¡­¡± Ed mumbled under his breath and stroked the twins¡¯ consciousnesses tenderly.

    ED DAMMIT!

    Ed almost lashed out with his mind at the damned apothecary. Ebenezer¡¯s last whisper was a shrill sound, a very shrill sound. Maybe that nasally voice was just as annoying as it had always been.

    You¡¯re going to make me wait eh?! Not if I break down the door!

    Ed contained his anger and shot back a whisper. I¡¯m busy dammit! The twins are crying, just wait!

    Oh¡­ I¡¯ll wait then. Would it have killed you to say that from the get go¡­

    Ed tried to stifle the urge to murder Ebenezer and returned to the task at hand.

    Almost an hour had passed before the twins were finally sound asleep, all cried out. Ed carefully squeezed his way out from between them. Using a layer of psychic energy to make his movements soundless and invisible he exited the bed and made his way down the stairs and stood in front of the door. There was a note pegged there. He took it and opened it. It was from McCarthy, it read:

    Ed. Edna will get better. You have my word. I promised to protect your family and that includes your children. I¡¯ve left one of my avatars in your house, she¡¯ll always be listening. Her name is Lucy, she¡¯s my second strongest. Know that I¡¯m always watching, keeping you safe.

    Joseph McCarthy

    Ed crumpled the note and let his eyes dart around the house. Trying to catch the wisps of McCarthy¡¯s so-called ¡°protector¡±. More like a guarantor of his loyalty, now if Ed ever went against the damn man his children could be murdered in an instant. He floated the note to the fire and placed his hands on the doorknob and peeked through the eyehole. His whole body was trembling, his boney hands rattling like shivering teeth. He saw Ebenezer, impatiently stomping his feet ¡ª it was comical. He allowed himself a slight grin.

    ¡°Old coot! You wanna come in?¡± His voice was louder and shakier than he had intended. The exhaustion was taking a toll on him, this day was full of trouble. Too many troubles in one day.

    ¡°Dammit open the door!¡± The apothecary was rather pushy.

    Ed tried to inject some playfulness in his voice, ¡°Like I¡¯d trust you in my house yah swindler. You can say what you want from out there.¡± The shaking in his body lessened.

    Ebenezer grated back, ¡°This is how you treat your friends eh? You trust me to dig around inside your skull but not your living room?¡±

    Ed felt his body relax. Friend¡­ that¡¯s a new word to me¡­

    Ed pulled himself together and masked his inner turmoil, letting the fa?ade of a grumpy old man settle over him.

    ¡°Fine, fine, fine!¡± With mock sullenness and feigned grumbling Ed opened the door, muttering under his breath at the impropriety of a late-night visit.

    Ebenezer stepped in pompously, and after scrutinizing the room intently he spotted a chair, not just any chair, the only chair on the table with no rickety legs. He dashed. His musty and patchy hooded-robe billowing out as he moved. Like a wild man he laughed as he cantered to the chair. Ebenezer plopped himself down loudly and leaned back regally ¡ª as if in his own home. He flashed Ed a toothy grin and twirled his long scraggly beard in his hand.

    Ed was flabbergasted at his behaviour, his troubles no longer superficially at the back of his mind. Confusion at Ebenezer¡¯s behaviour had taken their place. Ed just stared at Ebenezer.

    The eccentric apothecary pulled back his hood, revealing his wild white hair. Ebenezer gestured expansively, ¡°Come sit my friend, make yourself at home!¡±

    Ed mumbled obscenities under his breath and sat down on the rickety chair opposite the apothecary, fuming on the inside. It is my damn home ain¡¯t it?! Bloody prick¡­ a damn fine bloody prick.

    Ed looked up grumpily. The wily medicine man tossed him a surly wink and produced three items from his robe with a flourish. A clear glass bottle from his robe. A small package. And a small green glass bottle. Each of them he held in place briefly ¡ª so Ed could get a good look ¡ª before placing them on the table with a resounding smack.

    Ed was curious now, he leaned forward and extended a hand to the bottle. Ebenezer smacked his hand away like an angry grandmother protecting her sacred cherry cobbler.

    ¡°What gives you ornery old man dammit!¡± Ed almost shouted but reduced it to a muffled whisper after remembering the only recently sleeping twins. He snapped his fingers and an ethereal blue bubble engulfed them. He was now free to shout as he willed, ¡°DAMMIT OLD MAN!¡±

    Ebenezer wiped the spittle off his beard nonchalantly and extended one crooked finger, ¡°One, you can pick one of these.¡±

    Ed opened his mouth to speak, but the one finger turned into an open hand.

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait. Let me tell you what these items are¡­¡± Ebenezer leaned in salaciously, like a carnie at a fair, he gestured to the clear corked glass bottle. ¡°The first item, drum roll please!¡± He deadpanned when Ed didn¡¯t comply and settled for an exasperated sigh before continuing. ¡°¡­ Is Emaciated Vodka! Down your sorrows in a luxurious 184 proof beverage, and made from The Divine Heavenly Plums to boot! One swig of this and all your troubles will be forgotten, you might even find your cultivation has advanced ¡ª and perhaps you will even have a gap in your memory and your body might have weird marks on it, but what have you? Such is life! This is the first item!¡±

    Ebenezer took a quick glance, noticing that Ed was treating this matter very seriously he smiled to himself. This vodka was exceedingly rare and considered to be one of the finest vintages available! Of course, the apothecary now had Ed¡¯s full attention. Ebenezer continued, ¡°Now this here is a package of Nine Stem Tobacco the Adherable Orange edition!¡±

    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s a limited-edition leaf!¡±

    Satisfied with Ed¡¯s outburst, Ebenezer continued smugly, ¡°All the carcinogens have been cleaned out and of course only the highest grade Nine Stem Tobacco leaves have been used ¡ª saturated with psychic energy! Not only do you not need to fear the scalpel ¡ª for the excising of that lung cancer ¡ª you will feel refreshed and rejuvenated. Also, with the luscious orange scent there¡¯s no need to even freshen up with mints or anything! No one will know you have an addiction and are a slave to a vice! Rather, they will be enraptured with your smell!¡±

    Ebenezer took a deep breath, his moustache flailed about as he gulped in air. Ed waited for the apothecary to catch his breath, this was a good night now. It was a very good night.

    Ebenezer¡¯s rambling resumed, ¡°Our last item ¡ª and by no means our least item (all these items are damn expensive after all!) is a special formula. Made from Magenta Grade Herbs!¡± Ebenezer waited.

    Ed¡¯s eyes went wide with shock at the appropriate time. But who wouldn¡¯t? Herbs of the second highest grade, they would be worth hundreds of thousands of stones! Ed concentrated, he didn¡¯t want to miss a bit of this.

    ¡°Sleeping pills designed for children! Most medicinal pills have too high potency for children! That¡¯s what you¡¯ve been told right?¡±

    Ed nodded solemnly.

    ¡°Well who told you this? I¡¯ll tell you who! Stupid people! The problem isn¡¯t with the potency of the medicine it¡¯s the potency of the impurities in the medicine! Any formula made from exceedingly high-grade herbs is safe for children! Ohohoho! But not for your wallet¡­¡± Ebenezer emphasized the statement by shaking a finger. ¡°These special edition Sleepy Time Pills dissolve in water, milk ¡ª you name it! With a light minty aftertaste and superb cleansing powers your children don¡¯t even need to brush their teeth before bed. Our slow acting formula ensures that the child will not suspect a thing! And the timed release ensures that they won¡¯t wake up for eight hours ¡ª guaranteed!¡± Then quickly under his breath, ¡°If used consecutively for more than 100 days consult a physician, especially if signs of addiction occur. This pill is not intended to be a substitute for a good sleeping schedule and should only be regarded as a temporary measure.¡±

    Ed blinked. He thought he had caught every word¡­ he was pretty sure.

    Ebenezer exhaled and sat back, looking even more haughty and pompous than when he had first come in. He swept his hand over the three items, ¡°Choose wisely! This is a one time offer!¡±

    Ed leaned forward and closed his eyes. Carefully touching each item with his mind to ensure their authenticity. He was startled at Ebenezer¡¯s generosity, it was unexpected, so unexpected one might consider fraud. But Ebenezer was no swindler when it came to his wares¡­ though in everything else his personality inspired¡­ doubt. The old apothecary expected Ed to verify the products, he was not offended by his prodding in any way. But instead, with every inspection ¡ª and Ed¡¯s growing surprise ¡ª his chest swelled more and more with pride.

    ¡°I¡¯m shocked.¡± Ed began. Ebenezer¡¯s face shimmered with arrogance. Ed continued, slowly, ¡°Truly shocked¡­ but this isn¡¯t a difficult decision for me.¡±

    Ebenezer crooked a wrinkly eyebrow with scattered hairs. Ed leaned forward and took the pill bottle unceremoniously. Ebenezer¡¯s face was inscrutable. Ed rubbed his bald head and turned the bottle over in his palm, checking the ingredients again. His weathered face seemed to sag with age and weariness.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Ed rubbed his head a bit more. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m a father Eb. I¡¯m a father. Wine is nice ¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s vodka.¡±

    Ed waved his hand, ¡°Fine, alcohol! Whatever! As I was saying. Wine is nice, beautiful women are nice, tobacco is nice¡­ vices are fun. But a sobriety is better, a wife is better, and good health is better, because virtue and good health are needed for family. And nothing beats family.¡± Ebenezer¡¯s face was still blank. Ed looked over to the apothecary and smiled, ¡°If my kids can sleep at night, then I can sleep at night. That¡¯s all that matters to me.¡±

    Ebenezer¡¯s grainy skin went tight, his lips curled in a small smile, ¡°Well done old man¡­ you¡¯ve moved my heart! Have them all.¡± With a flourish Ebenezer produced two glasses. With a pop the cork came out and a silky clear liquid was poured into the glasses. Before Ed could object an ornately carved wooden pipe was tossed at him. The Psyker scrambled and managed to catch it.

    Ed sucked in a sharp breath, ¡°Heavenly Mahogany?! Dammit, how rich are you!¡±

    ¡°Heh! Put away that crappy pipe you¡¯ve got, this pipe purifies the smoke and enhances the flavour!¡± He grinned and tore open the paper package, ¡°A good pipe needs good tobacco!¡± Ebenezer pulled out a pipe of his own, one that matched his wooden skin tone and grainy appearance. Pinching some tobacco in his fingers he stuffed the pipe with some black leaf. Then he gently patted it down, fished in his pocket for a moment, and pulled out a match.

    Ed was aghast, ¡°You smoke?!¡± Then in a much quieter whisper, as if hesitant, ¡°Isn¡¯t the tobacco plant¡­ like¡­ a cousin?!¡±

    Ebenezer harrumphed with a sound only a pompous old fool can make, ¡°You like steak?¡±

    Ed nodded solemnly.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t cows mammals?¡± Ebenezer retorted as he cautiously lit a fire in his pipe and began to suck on the stem contentedly. Orange tinted smoke billowed out as a soft smile danced across his face.

    Ed surveyed all these items, the value of just one was incalculable, let alone all three. He timidly spoke, as if afraid to spoil the moment , ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡­¡±

    Ebenezer raised a hand, ¡°Friendship isn¡¯t something you understand old man, it¡¯s something you do.¡±

    ¡°Yer older than me dammit!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you need to respect me!¡± Ebenezer grabbed the cup in front of him and drained it. He folded his arms in derision, ¡°Your senior commands you to drink!¡±

    Ed looked at the glass, then looked at the man. Yeah¡­ a friend¡­ what¡¯s a friend dammit, in this world of cultivation. I guess he¡¯s a friend¡­ hell, he¡¯s my only friend in the whole world. Frig, don¡¯t think about that too much. Ed downed the cup before his thoughts made him depressed. He coughed painfully. ¡°GAH!¡± the old black man shouted and rubbed his throat, ¡°That¡¯s the good stuff.¡±

    ¡°Heh!¡± Ebenezer poured him another glass, ¡°Every good thing should be done twice!¡±

    A cough and a sputter later Ebenezer called out again, ¡°Third times the charm!¡±

    Soon the two old fogies had filled their little bubble of energy with smoke, song and a few dances ¡ª if that¡¯s what you could call a senior having a laughter induced seizure. They exchanged stories. Chatted about loves lost and loves gained. Edna came up many times. Ed¡¯s eyes had become bloodshot. So had Ebenezer¡¯s. They were cultivators so both had lived long lives. Both had much to share. But they were still human, so they had suffered much, many lifetimes worth. Unbeknownst to the two burgeoning comrades, upstairs ¡ª while doctor Ebenezer was doing his house call ¡ª a small boy was shivering in his room.

    Oz¡¯s body was drenched with sweat, he was feverish. He sat upright on the bed with his quilt wrapped around his body. He kept seeing two faces over and over again. One was a woman with soft black skin and hazel eyes, her hair curly and bouncy, Edna. The other was a woman with fiery red hair and green eyes, her skin white and creamy, Katherine. Over and over again both of them were destroyed before his eyes by the yellow-eyed man with a wolfish grin. He saw the hands with the black nails. He heard the sickening crack. He heard himself scream. Those fingers had clawed through the images of the people he loved over and over again. Sometimes it was the twins, but most of the time it was Katherine and Edna.

    Power.

    He needed power.

    He had woken up almost as soon as the battle between McCarthy and Lee had started, McCarthy¡¯s command to sleep had barely affected him. Eyes wide he saw them fight. McCarthy¡¯s kicks. Lee¡¯s screams. He had seen it all. McCarthy had minced the source of his nightmares into a red mist with just a word. That was power. His little mind was filled with regret and pain.

    ¡°If only I was a cultibator¡­¡±

    The phrase was repeated over and over again in the darkness. His hair greasy and black. His eyes brown and blood shot.

    ¡°If only I was a cultibator¡­¡±

    He hadn¡¯t slept since the attack. He excused himself, telling his family he was sick. He definitely looked the part¡­ maybe he was sick. Those smiling faces tormented him. The women he loved. That he could never bring back. He knew, something inside him knew that Edna ¡ª that Mom ¡ª was dead. That she was gone forever. Papa said she was away on a trip, but Oz knew she was never coming home. He looked to the side of the bed. His bottle of liquid was gone, Ed had hidden it after he had coughed blood from the vial. Apparently, Ebenezer had messed up the formula. Oz didn¡¯t care. That bottle was the key to being a cultivator, it was the key to power! He needed it¡­ he needed it badly. His heart went to his sisters, Gwen and Lilywen. He couldn¡¯t bear it if they died, if something happened to them. He balled his little fists and got up from the bed, grim determination had cleared his red eyes.

    In the pantry¡­ it¡¯s probably in the pantry.

    He snuck down the stairs. Careful to avoid the creaking step and to let go of the rail when he reached the spot where it wasn¡¯t attached. He looked at the kitchen. A light orange fruity scent hung in the air and a whiff of plum was mixed in with it. Ed and Ebenezer were fast asleep, their faces splayed out on the table. They had had a good night.

    Oz wrinkled his nose in disgust, the nose could not be fooled by these cheap parlour tricks. His lower lip quivered with a righteous indignation! These fiends! Did they think he was a child?! That his eyes and nose could not discern the difference between a fruit sundae and conglomeration of debauchery?! He would have words ¡ª er¡­ ¡ª glares! He would have many a glare for Papa dearest when he woke up. Ox turned up his nose with a huff, then as his holy fury subsided he sighed. He had always hated tobacco. He didn¡¯t know why. But now was not the time to dawdle. He gathered his courage and crept by the doorway and made his way to the basement. He opened the pantry door and after rummaging around he found the bottle. It was still almost full. He tucked it under his shirt and snuck back into his room and closed the door. He rubbed the bottle softly with his thumb, as if expecting a genie to burst out. His eyes shone with greed, desire and passion. Power. He needed power. This bottle might as well be a magic genie that would grant his wishes, for he had one wish. Not revenge¡­ his mind could not handle such a complex thought process yet. He wanted to be strong. Just strength was all he wanted. He gripped the bottle with his only hand and set his teeth to the cork.

    He opened the bottle.

    A rich earthy scent wafted out. Oz¡¯s nose wrinkled in confusion. The usual concoctions had a different smell to them, a putrid and foul smell. This bottle smelled nice, in sharp contrast to the immense pain it caused. It didn¡¯t smell like this the last time he used it. Maybe¡­ something had happened to the bottle? Oz looked down at his hand, it felt stronger. He felt stronger¡­ and different. Ever since the day he had woken up, after drinking the old farmer¡¯s blood, he had felt weird. Oz shuddered involuntarily. That was a very painful experience.

    What if it happens again?

    His little hands trembled at the memory. The blood. The retching. The hurt. But the yellow eyes. The wispy blonde hair. The black nails. The wolfish grin. Now, the resolve. Ebenezer had said that though the bottle was incredibly painful, it was also incredibly potent. It should have cleansed Oz¡¯s body, strengthened its structure on a microscopic level. At this point, Oz¡¯s body was probably tough enough to intake the medicine directly. At least that¡¯s what he told his five-year old self. Oz steeled himself, then drank.

    He chugged it.

    The whole thing.

    It tasted like dirt.

    He felt dizzy.

    This probably a mistake¡­

    A pretty big mistake¡­

    Papa¡­ need to go to Papa¡­

    His thoughts were a jumbled mess. The world was spinning as he pressed himself on the door. Sluggishly and after fumbling he managed to turn the knob and open the door. He took a step and blinked.

    All of a sudden, he was in front of his bedroom¡­ this medicine was powerful stuff. When did he walk up the basement stairs? When did he walk by Ebenezer and Ed? When the frig did he walk up the stairs to his bedroom? Confusion like a heavy mist clouded his brain.

    Ah? How¡¯d I get upstairs¡­ Need to find Papa¡­ Need help. He was feverish, beads of sweat had drenched his clothes, his sense of time and space was dilated and warped. Somehow, he made it to the top of the stairs. It was strange, though his mind was muddled¡­ it felt more clear¡­ like he was remembering things long forgotten.

    ¡°Pa¡­pa¡­¡± His groggy voice called out.

    But the only answer he got was the snoring of two old men.

    He took a step.

    Eh?! That¡¯s strange¡­ why is the floor jumping at me?

    ¡°Ed! Help me out!¡±

    His voice was deeper, it felt like it wasn¡¯t his voice¡­ Who¡¯s Ed? But the floor reached him before the answer.

    With a resounding smack! Oz was plastered on the floor and crashed down the stairs landing in a heap on the bottom. His body had definitely hit that squeaky step and the rail was now more loose than ever.

    ¡°Huh? What was that?!¡± Ed bumbled awake, his mind operating in a thick haze of intoxication. His bleary eyes focused on shape. The shape had a white shirt. Black pants. It was missing an arm. His eyes went wide.

    ¡°OZ!¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°EH?! WHAT?!¡± Ebenezer jumped awake his eyes sharp as if ready to strike.

    ¡°Dammit not you, my boy! Frig!¡± Ed tried to walk forward, but stumbled off his chair, still drunk from the potent brew.

    Ebenezer noticed Ed¡¯s struggle and darted over to Oz¡¯s still form. Ed staggered to his feet and made his way over to his son, his hands flailing as he walked, in an attempt to stay upright.

    ¡°I drank too much¡­¡± The Psyker mumbled to himself.

    Ebenezer bent down and turned the boy over. He opened his mouth and the old man¡¯s crooked nose sniffed a couple times. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and stroked his beard. He shoved a finger in Oz¡¯s throat and scooped out some saliva mixed with a greenish-black liquid and rubbed it between his fingers. He hummed and hawed as Ed finally managed to stumble to them.

    Ed¡¯s bloodshot eyes stared at the opaque goop. ¡°Dammit¡­ my boy! What is it Eb?! Is my boy okay?!¡±

    Ebenezer sniffed the liquid. Then popped the goop in his mouth ¡ª fingers and all.

    Ed shouted.

    Ebenezer swallowed.

    ¡°What kind of ¡ª¡± Ed began, but was cut off by a resounding ¡°Shush!¡± from Ebenezer.

    The apothecary frowned, ¡°Strange¡­ the mixture is different ¡ª significantly ¡ª this time around and ¡ª¡±

    ¡°What of my son?¡± Ed grabbed Ebenezer¡¯s robe and pulled him close, both men almost falling to the ground because of Ed¡¯s drunkenness.

    Ebenezer flicked the Psyker¡¯s hands off with ease, ¡°The boy is fine.¡±

    ¡°How can you tell?¡±

    ¡°I tasted.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Never speak of this moment and never do this again.¡±

    Ebenezer nodded his head and flashed a wry toothy grin, ¡°I must examine the boy! Come come!¡± He paused and looked at Ed¡¯s uncoordinated state, ¡°I suppose I need to help¡­ heh!¡± Ebenezer¡¯s eyes glowed green, and his body creaked and groaned like an old tree bending in the breeze. His woodish skin turned completely wooden and his nose drooped long and low like a sagging branch. His wiry white hair turned to a cascade of weepy willow branches and his hunched back straightened out.

    Ed rubbed his eyes. Then his head. Then his eyes. Then his head. He opened his mouth to speak but decided to wait until his was sober ¡ª a surprisingly sober decision in and of itself.

    As the transformation winded down a voice like the rustling of the leaves swooned out, ¡°Ego lignum.¡±

    Ebenezer grinned, his skin splitting like bark as rows of wooden teeth were revealed, stained a dark brown. His green eyes burning with life and vitality. ¡°Shall we?¡±

    ¡°Ummm¡­ I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°HEHEHE! Who said you have a damn choice? I¡¯ll tell you who!¡± Ebenezer reached and swept Oz and Ed in his arms as if they were as light as a feather, ¡°NOOOOOOBOOOOODY!¡± He then dashed out the door, faster than Ed thought possible.

    Within a few minutes they had arrived at the apothecary shop and Ebenezer had tossed Ed and Oz onto the floor in the back room and stomped off to rummage around for his Bloodreader.

    Ed sat up. His drunkenness almost cured because of Ebenezer¡¯s abnormal behaviour, ¡°What¡¯s gotten into him?¡± He mumbled and tugged his leather jacket closer to his boney frame.

    ¡°It¡¯s my gel!¡± Ebenezer¡¯s voice was loud, but it was back to normal. ¡°I should have examined that bottle of liquid, why didn¡¯t I think of that?¡±

    Ed rubbed his temples in agony, ¡°Soooo loud¡­¡±

    ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been trying to improve my formula ¡ª the one for Oz.¡± The apothecary reappeared in the room, his metal barrel of a machine in tow, his eyes excited and almost jittery with glee. ¡°I think I found the missing ingredient!¡±

    ¡°Sooo loud¡­¡±

    ¡°Hehehe! This formula¡­ perhaps¡­ perhaps this will solve my problem. Maybe¡­ dammit¡­ just maybe ¡ª¡± Ebenezer¡¯s delightful cackling and reminisces stopped. The Bloodreader rolled forward and bumped into the table where Oz lay. Ebenezer didn¡¯t care, his body was taunt, and his still green eyes burned with an uncanny intensity. Ed¡¯s face almost exploded with fear ¡ª the drunkenness eradicated by his primal instincts. He flooded his mind with psychosis.

    There was someone else in the shop.

    No, there were two people!

    One stepped out of the shadows.

    He had dark brown ¡ª almost black ¡ª hair and blue eyes ¡ª piercing, almost hard as steel. His hair combed perfectly straight and arranged like a model. His face cleanshaven. A three-piece suit. Deep navy-blue jacket and pants, and an orangish brown vest. With a deep navy tie. He was missing a finger on each hand. The ring finger on the left. The middle finger on the right.

    It was McCarthy.

    ¡°Evening fellows¡­¡± His eyes wandered to the Psyker then the apothecary, he seemed oblivious to their empowered states, or uncaring. Rather his attention was focused on a dark corner of the room. His blue eyes sharp as a sword. It was the fourth person in the shop.

    The darkness seemed to cloak him, hiding his presence. Then it gently washed away. He looked like a farmer. His back was bent and hunched over, and deep scars raced across his forehead. His beard was wispy and white, some places thinner than others ¡ª as if hairs had been torn out. A woven straw hat was on his head and grandfatherly hair peaked out from his brows. The wrinkles of age around his eyes contrasted with the vicissitude of life that seemed to almost bubble out from exuberant brown eyes ¡ª eyes that seemed to dance with life and glitter with gold. His plain dusty white tunic was open at the chest, revealing more scars as some white curly hair peeked out. A rope was fastened around his waist, deep brown leotards on his legs, and straw sandals completed his outfit. He moved and walked forward, as if favouring his right side, like it was permanently wounded.

    It was Piers.

    He smiled at Ebenezer, his eyes were neutral towards Ed. But his gaze at McCarthy was inscrutable, too many emotions were held within.

    McCarthy noticed one emotion and his hackles were raised like an enraged wolf, ¡°YOU DARE PITY ME?!¡± He snarled like a wild animal, disgust and rage lacing his every word.

    ¡°I pity everyone who isn¡¯t me.¡±

    McCarthy nearly lashed out, but the soft and heavy voice seemed to calm his emotions. He saw the playful smile dance across the wounded man¡¯s face. He felt disarmed. His anger simmered. He absently kicked a stone, then looked at Ebenezer. ¡°You can¡¯t fix the problem¡­ people who cultivate elements¡­ we take on the characteristics of our element and our immortality is found when we turn into our element. One day¡­ I will be the wind, sweeping through the earth.¡± He pointed a finger at the apothecary, ¡°You will be a tree¡­ old man¡­ you¡¯re old even compared to me. It¡¯s our fate, humans were made for oblivion.¡± His eyes turned to Ed, ¡°No one knows the fate of Psykers, but something tells me the end is insanity¡­ there¡¯s always a price for this so-called immortality¡­ life isn¡¯t free after all.¡±

    Ebenezer simply huffed, ¡°You don¡¯t visit me in a few hundred years and all you¡¯ve got to say is negativity! Go back to your damn office!¡±

    Ed balked. Who the frig is this tree-man¡­

    McCarthy waved, ¡°Don¡¯t mind me.¡±

    ¡°I mind, why are you guys in my shop?!¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s lips tightened, he reached for a cigarette, but then stopped. His eyes fell on the farmer. It¡¯s not good to show weakness in front of the strong. McCarthy didn¡¯t think that Piers was as strong as him, but a thousand small cuts could kill a man, he had enough enemies as it was. But one question settled in the Chancellor¡¯s mind.

    Who is he?

    That was something to consider later. He turned his head to Ebenezer and shrugged, ¡°I have eyes everywhere...¡± He cast a subtle glance towards Ed, ¡°It¡¯s not everyday you reveal your meagre power. I was curious. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡±

    They all turned to Piers.

    McCarthy regarded the farmer, suspicion in his eyes. Ed and Ebenezer fixed their gazes on this enigmatic old man. The old farmer looked at them all. His eyes fixed like steel, unwavering and solid. McCarthy clenched his fists. Ed and Ebenezer tensed up. Was he a friend or a foe?

    The farmer flashed a toothy grin, ¡°I just walked in here because I felt like it.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Then maybe you should ¡ª¡± Ebenezer began but stopped when a gnarled old black hand with stitch marks around the wrist, rested on his shoulder.

    ¡°He saved my boy¡¯s life¡­¡± Ed¡¯s voice was low and soft.

    Ebenezer shrugged, ¡°Whatever.¡±

    McCarthy perked his ears in surprise, he wasn¡¯t truly concerned about this old man. There was almost no one on this planet that could defeat him. The old man was enigmatic, but he felt like a mortal. McCarthy looked at the many scars and obvious injuries he nursed. But the fact that he helped Oz was interesting ¡ª obviously self-interest wasn¡¯t a motive, the boy was useless ,and Ebenezer and Ed were novel, but hardly worthy allies ¡ª a cultivator of any kind of generosity was rare. Perhaps he was incredibly powerful, but it looks like he was on the losing side of an unfortunate battle. Maybe he wants to curry favour? Help speed his recovery? McCarthy soon put the thoughts from his mind. He whispered to the wind, his voice like the song of a crawdad. If anything happened, he was ready.

    Seeing the Chancellor wasn¡¯t going to reject ¡ª and Piers wasn¡¯t going anywhere ¡ª Ebenezer plugged the boy up to the machine and waited. Nothing happened. He cursed. Ed grinned. Ebenezer flicked the on switch. Gaskets whirred, steam hissed and the small glass screen on the steel dome lit up. The men watched the animation of the hourglass with fascination.

    ¡°When did you make this?¡± Curiosity was evident in McCarthy¡¯s voice.

    ¡°None of your damn business.¡± Ebenezer crossed his arms and hmphed, like the caricature of a small child.

    Ed shook his head. He understood less and less as time went on about the weird apothecary and his weird store and his weird inventions and his weird connections with the Chancellor. He scratched his bald head and thought of the gem in his skull. He thought of his mission to kill Deloris. Nothing added up. He felt the gem throb for a moment, almost like it was wriggling against his brain matter. He needed to get that looked at.

    McCarthy pressed Ebenezer, ¡°When did you make it?¡±

    The apothecary, still pouting, replied curtly, ¡°Not too long ago.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your latest model?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s fingers twitched as if they itched to grab a cigarette. He controlled the urge, sparing a sidelong glance at the old farmer. He asked Ebenezer patiently, ¡°Is it more accurate?¡±

    ¡°Almost double.¡±

    ¡°How much?¡± There was a sparkle in the Chancellor¡¯s eye. A machine that was twice as accurate as the latest Bloodreaders, this was a godsend for a man whose profession was to find young geniuses and nurture them.

    ¡°It¡¯s not for sale! Especially to a Philistine like ¡ª¡±

    ¡°100 000 spirit stones.¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    A handshake and a bag toss later, McCarthy was grinning, Ebenezer was cackling, Ed was dumbfounded, and Piers was impassive. As if on cue, the machine reminded everyone of its presence and its very important task.

    ¡°Congratulations human overlord! Your overall talent rating is Average, you have a normal talent for cultivation! May your enemies fear and tremble before you, the worlds shake in your wake!¡± Its robotic voice intoned. The screen lit up with the machine''s findings.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>Potential</td>

    <td>Ratings</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Abnormal Energies

    </td>

    <td>

    Present???

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Atmospheric Energy Affinity

    </td>

    <td>

    Abysmal

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Psychic Potential

    </td>

    <td>

    Abysmal

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elemental Affinity

    </td>

    <td>

    None

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    IQ Potential

    </td>

    <td>

    Abnormal???

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Longevity

    </td>

    <td>

    Average

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Muscular Potential

    </td>

    <td>

    Average

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Soulish Affinity

    </td>

    <td>

    Abysmal???

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Current Vigour

    </td>

    <td>

    Average

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Current Vitality

    </td>

    <td>

    Average

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°EH?¡±

    Everyone was shocked. It was unheard of to have potential improve. Not to mention so fast¡­

    ¡°It¡¯s my damn hair gel!¡± Ebenezer exploded with jubilation as he clutched his fists in victory, tears streaming down his face.

    McCarthy was incredulous.

    Ed almost fainted.

    The farmer was still impassive.

    ¡°What abnormal energy does he have?¡± Ed¡¯s eyes had ran over the list over and over again. The boy was so average it was frightening. But a welcome fright, it was better than the kind of ¡°exceptional¡± that he was before.

    The apothecary stroked his beard thoughtfully, ¡°Dunno, let¡¯s find out!¡± He hopped to the back of the machine and twisted a bunch of knobs and dials. Soon a paragraph of information appeared in a language Ed could not understand. Ebenezer was in front of the screen before the Psyker could say anything. Ebenezer¡¯s eyes devoured the information, his eyes twinkling with delight.

    ¡°Well,¡± McCarthy¡¯s interest startled them all, but he continued unperturbed, ¡°What¡¯s it say?¡±

    ¡°Wood!¡± Ebenezer licked his lips, ¡°The boy potentially has Genius affinity with wood. Hehehe! He¡¯ll really have to call me Grandfather¡­¡±

    ¡°Prick me,¡± Ed sighed.

    McCarthy¡¯s interest faded, it was replaced with pity. He straightened his suit and started walking out, calling out as he went, ¡°It¡¯s a damn shame is what it is¡­ wood¡¯s not even a real element. Eleazer won¡¯t even want to look at him. Not after seeing the disappointment you became.¡±

    ¡°You pricks don¡¯t know anything! So what if wood isn¡¯t the best?! It¡¯s better than nothing!¡± Ebenezer¡¯s face was red and his tone hot. ¡°That damn Eleazer thinks he can run my alchemy department, half his recipes are mine! So what if I can¡¯t advance passed Major! WHAT DOES IT DAMN MATTER!¡±

    McCarthy turned around, ¡°You and that boy are consigned to a life of mediocrity together. Your longevity is spent old man. Perhaps a student is what you need.¡±

    ¡°Whoa whoa, who said ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ed¡­ there isn¡¯t a better wood cultivator around,¡± McCarthy¡¯s tone was almost sad.

    ¡°I still think the boy could be a body cultivator! Or a martial cultivator! He ¡ª¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s slow headshake shattered Ed¡¯s last-ditch hope, ¡°No Anatomical or Body Cultivation manual can shine in the hands of Average potential, it would be a waste of resources¡­ Martial Cultivation is a maybe, but the boy is missing an arm...¡± McCarthy¡¯s eyes lit up, he pulled a bag from his jacket, put some books in it and tossed it to Ed, ¡°In this bag are five books, each suited for someone with one arm. Let fate guide the boy. Having a Wood Cultivator with only one arm excel is only possible as a quirk of fate.¡±

    Ed looked at the manuals inside the bag. They were all ungraded. His eyes were heavy as he looked at McCarthy. As if asking why their quality was so low.

    The Chancellor shrugged, ¡°Manuals that can be used with only one hand don¡¯t get gradings, the boy¡¯s balance is especially bad because he¡¯s missing a whole arm. These manuals aren¡¯t designed for someone with one hand, there¡¯s no such thing. These manuals merely can be used by someone with one hand.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps he can train a regular manual, just adapt it ¡ª¡± Ed began, but this time Ebenezer cut him off.

    ¡°It¡¯s better to start with a manual more suited for someone with one arm. Then depending on how he develops and his interests. Then he can perhaps find a graded manual and adapt it, but if he has no skills, what¡¯s there to adapt?¡±

    ¡°Dammit! Piers, what do you¡­¡± Ed turned to find the old farmer, but he was nowhere to be seen. They were all shocked, no one had seen him go. McCarthy¡¯s eyes narrowed a bit, even he didn¡¯t notice Piers go. That would require some investigating.

    Ed sat down on a chair and leaned forward. He rubbed his bald head. Very hard.

    McCarthy waved. Ed gave a weak wave back. The Chancellor nodded and then just walked out. It was Ed and Ebenezer again.

    Ed looked up, ¡°God of the Green Hills have mercy¡­ at least when he was Abysmal I didn¡¯t have any expectations to be dashed. But now, now that his future is set. Maybe we can feed him more of the liquid?¡± Ed¡¯s voice was hopeful. That damn McCarthy didn¡¯t think of that did he!

    Ebenezer shook his head, ¡°The reason the boy passed out is because the medicine has become poisonous to him, it¡¯s too full of impurities. He will not grow anymore unless I come up with a more advanced formula.¡± Ebenezer looked at the boy, ¡°I will experiment, but I doubt I¡¯ll have one ready for a couple decades¡­ and it will be very expensive to get the ingredients he¡¯ll need. Even for me.¡±

    Ed¡¯s face sagged. That elf-skin of a Chancellor knew this! Frig¡­ it¡¯s just not fair¡­

    Ebenezer rested a hand on Ed¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Hey, it¡¯s better that it happened sooner rather than later! The boy can start cultivating years before we predicted! I can wake up the boy, tell him the good news.¡±

    Ed sighed, ¡°It¡¯s only relatively good¡­ wake up the boy.¡±

    Ebenezer bounded up to Oz and popped a pill in his mouth and started shaking him violently. Soon the boy¡¯s eyes opened. He saw the two old men; his expression was puzzled but soon he sat up and looked at them quietly. A new wisdom was hidden within his eyes. Ed looked at his son, his face heavy. Ebenezer sensed the atmosphere. He pulled a tome from his robe and handed it to Ed, he then nodded and walked out of the room ¡ª leaving Oz alone with Ed.

    The silence stretched on.

    Ed scratched his chin.

    Oz didn¡¯t move.

    Ed began, slowly at first, ¡°Boy¡­ I know you saw¡­ I know you saw what happened to Mama.¡±

    Oz¡¯s fists clenched, his knuckles white.

    Ed continued on, ¡°But McCarthy told me she¡¯s still alive¡­ there¡¯s still hope.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s always been a liar.¡±

    Ed¡¯s eyes went wide. Oz¡¯s mouth was open in shock -¡ª as if he couldn¡¯t believe what he just said.

    ¡°What you say boy?!¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡±

    ¡°Stop stuttering and speak up!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡±

    ¡°Yah don¡¯t know dammit?¡±

    ¡°It¡­ just came out!¡±

    ¡°Came out of my wrinkly nut sacks it did!¡±

    ¡°I ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t ever say anything bad about the Chancellor¡­ ever! Especially after what he just done for you¡­ be damned if I know how you think he¡¯s ¡®always¡¯ been a liar!¡± Ed¡¯s tone was harsh, and he was confused, but he was too tired to pursue this. He had adopted a weird boy. The boy spoke as if he had known the Chancellor for years. Ridiculous!

    Ed rubbed his bald head, ¡°Now¡­ as I was saying¡­ with Mama away¡­ you and me are in charge of this household ¡ª until she gets back ¡ª it¡¯s you and me in charge. I know you dun wanna be a cultivator ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I want to be a cultibator!¡±

    ¡°DAMMIT BOY! Everyone keeps interrupting me! Frig¡­ now he wants to be a cultivator.¡±

    ¡°I want to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I get it!¡± Ed held up his hands in surrender and just wished he could return to the days when the kid didn¡¯t talk to him. This was becoming one of the most stressful days of his life. ¡°Now¡­ we just tested you and you have an affinity to wood¡­¡±

    Oz mouthed the word to himself softly, he seemed neither excited nor sad, just determined.

    ¡°¡­ That¡¯s what you get for rubbing that damn liquid on you when I wasn¡¯t around. Vomiting blood like you was, you gotta be careful. You didn¡¯t let me inspect the bloody bottle before you slathered it on!¡±

    Oz hung his head in shame.

    ¡°Now¡­¡± Ed resumed his discourse, his wrinkly black skin giving it a sense of wisdom, ¡°It¡¯s not all bad¡­ you could say it¡¯s better than we thought. Ebenezer has volunteered to take you as a pupil. You will learn alchemy ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I never said I¡¯d teach him that!¡± A wheezy nasally voice interrupted Ed¡¯s speech.

    Ed felt the veins in his temple throb. He was about to burst.

    ¡°My alchemy is top notch! It can¡¯t be learned by a one-armed ¡ª¡±

    ¡°DAMMIT YOU OLD SWINDLER! First you poison my boy with your shotty skills and now you turn him into a damn cultivating shrubbery like you and you¡¯ve got the gall to not take responsibility?! We was shooting for Anatomical Cultivation, that¡¯s why we got all those damn blood ingredients!¡±

    There was quiet. Then a small abashed voice responded, ¡°I don¡¯t turn into shrubbery¡­¡±

    Ed thundered, ¡°DETAILS! Shut up! Anyways¡­ boy you¡¯ll be sucking that damned elf-skin dry of any valuable knowledge he has as recompense for his crimes.¡±

    ¡°What did Grandpa Eb ¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be damned if I let you call him Grandpa in my presence.¡±

    Oz shut his mouth.

    Ed pressed his fingers to his temple and massaged it gently, ¡°Now boy¡­ here¡¯s a book for you from him, it¡¯s called¡­¡± Ed bent down and looked at the cover, struggling to read the scrawling script. ¡°I am a Tree¡­ It sounds¡­ very¡­ powerful¡­¡± Defeat was in Ed¡¯s tone he handed the book to Oz who squealed with childlike glee when he grabbed it. Ed¡¯s eyes were full of pity. It¡¯s better to have no power than to have not enough power¡­ at least there¡¯s no false hope. He looked at the bag full of manuals. Well¡­ there might be still hope.

    Ed held out the small bag to Oz. The boy put the book down and readied himself for the next present. The stoic fa?ade replaced by the expression of an excited child.

    ¡°In this bag are five books, pick one¡­ I think¡­¡± Ed rummaged through the bag for a moment, nodding to himself, then said, ¡°Four of them are Cultivation Manuals. If you get one of these you¡¯ll be a dual cultivator! The other one¡­ is just a Martial Arts Manual, no cultivation technique¡­ the difference doesn¡¯t matter right now¡­ it¡¯ll all be more clear when you¡¯re older.¡± Ed proffered the bag, a twinkle of hope in his eyes as he considered the possibility of dual-cultivation. ¡°Here¡­ pick one.¡±

    Oz stared at the bag, his gaze intense.

    Ed huffed and wagged the bag, urging him to grab a book.

    Oz reached.

    He pulled out a thin dusty volume. Ed¡¯s eyes visibly drooped with sadness, ¡°Ah¡­ the Martial Art Manual¡­¡± He looked regretfully at the bag, contemplated telling Oz to redraw, but decided against it. ¡°Let¡¯s just call it destiny¡­ we Cultivators are a superstitious lot, if it doesn¡¯t work out you can return it. But stick with it for now.¡±

    The young boy was oblivious to Ed¡¯s tumultuous emotional state, he was simply bursting with glee. Oz squeaked with delight, ¡°Papa, what¡¯s it say?¡±

    Ed took the manual and read it out, his finger tracing every word, ¡°A Manual for the Arts of the Gentleman: Starting with Tea, Disciple and the Cane.¡±

    The little boy oohed and aahed, ¡°It sounds strong!¡± His eyes glazed over with confusion, ¡°What¡¯s it about?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s about fencing¡­ I think¡­ it¡¯s suited for you.¡± Ed eyed Oz¡¯s flapping sleeve, devoid of its arm. ¡°It¡¯s a weapon technique that only requires one arm.¡±

    Oz¡¯s eyes brightened, they then clouded ¡ª as if recalling something unpleasant. All bubbliness and eagerness had vanished from his face and he looked sullenly at the two tomes now in his lap. He looked at his adoptive father, his brown eyes glittering, almost shining with what seemed to be flecks of gold. He spoke, his voice soft and sorrowful, ¡°Papa¡­ how long will it take to be strong?¡±

    Ed thought for a moment and then sighed, ¡°Give it twelve years or so¡­ something like that. You¡¯ll be seventeen by then. If these manuals haven¡¯t worked out by then¡­ we¡¯ll try something else.¡±

    Oz nodded his head and clutched the dusty old volumes to his chest. Ed produced a spatial bag and stuffed the books in there and handed it to Oz.

    ¡°When I go home, I¡¯ll stitch this bag to a nice white shirt I¡¯ve got¡­ the shirt is enchanted, it¡¯ll fit you no matter how much you grow. It¡¯ll be your training robe, wear it on top of your regular clothes from now on.¡±

    Oz nodded solemnly, sensing the seriousness in Ed¡¯s tone. But little boy¡¯s face wore a questioning expression, ¡°You mean ¡®we¡¯¡­ right Papa?¡±

    Ed gave a half-hearted smile to his son and looked to his friend¡­ Ebenezer. The apothecary nodded at him. He nodded back.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to move in with¡­ Grandpa Eb¡­ he¡¯ll be training you everyday now.¡±

    Oz gasped and turned to regard Ebenezer with adoration. Ed ruffled the boy¡¯s hair. Ebenezer smiled.

    ¡°Visit often,¡± Ed finished quietly. Then stood. Then walked out the door.

    Oz bounced up and down with excitement, for now he wouldn¡¯t miss his father. There were too many things happening at once and an aged presence seemed to be awakening within him. His soft brown eyes oscillated between childishness and a bizarre maturity. For the next twelve years he would cultivate. Grow. Learn to fight. Face many dangers. But all was to be done in secret, only when he was seventeen would be sufficiently advanced in his cultivation to take the entry test for the Sect of Sagacity. His innate talent was too low to apply when he turned fourteen ¡ª as was the typical age. He would have to wait until he crossed a certain threshold of power. Only after that, would his life of cultivation truly begin. For now, it would be the basics and homeschooling with schoolmaster Eb, day in and day out. The sound of Ebenezer¡¯s chattering and explanations of the tome drifted out to the street, the dingy old medicine shop was more alive now than it had ever been.

    It was now the morning, Ed had wandered around for hours, reflecting on how he could help his son in the future. Hesitant to make his way home, but the twins would probably wake up sometime soon. Ed slowly closed the door to his house. The twins were still sleeping. He snuck up the stairs and put a few drops from Ebenezer¡¯s elixir in each of their mouths, he didn¡¯t have time to console them. He had a lot of things to think about right now. He sat down on his favourite wooden chair at the table. He started thinking about ways to acquire items to boost Oz¡¯s Wood Cultivation. He pulled out his new pipe. And the Nine Stem Tobacco. He stuffed it, gently patting down the leaf. He lit it. He sucked in a breath of smoke and let his mind relax. So he sat for hours. His face switching between ponderousness and contentment. Occasionally he would let his pipe run dry, he¡¯d walk upstairs and check on the twins. Then walk back downstairs and light his pipe again. Soon morning had turned to noon. The mid-afternoon sun was streaming through his windows, gently falling on his skin, warming him, making him sleepy. He turned an eye to a shadowy corner of the room and smirked.

    ¡°Come on out Jannes, your face may have changed¡­ but you still smell like a stinking rat.¡±

    A red-haired man with freckles, brown eyes and supple skin seemed to melt from the corner of the room. He wore a black three-piece suit and a white shirt. He confidently strode up to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down. Not at all like he had been caught red-handed.

    The traitorous Psyker leaned in, his red locks of hair falling around his white freckled face, ¡°So how¡¯s Edna?¡±

    Venom dripped from his snakish tone. But Ed was like a stone. Unmoving. Unperturbed. Wisps of smoke billowed around Ed as he puffed nonchalantly, not as if he was currently facing one of the most powerful Psykers in the world. Not as if the man had just attacked his greatest weakness.

    Jannes grew irate.

    ¡°Why are you so damn calm!¡± He hissed, vexation dripping from his tone.

    Ed twisted his pipe, chewing the stem thoughtfully, his brown eyes twinkled as he replied, ¡°McCarthy told me he¡¯d leave one of his avatars to guard my children¡­ I think he called her Lucy ¡ª said she was one of his strongest. I know she¡¯s around here right now, I can¡¯t really sense her though. You probably tried to enter the children¡¯s rooms eh? Didn¡¯t realize you were outclassed and probably thought it was just some sort of talisman¡­ or item. So now you¡¯ve come here to blackmail me personally¡­¡±

    Jannes¡¯ knuckles turned white and his face went red with anger. ¡°Stop acting so tough then, if you cut off your own hand I might forgive you and only kill one of your kids!¡±

    ¡°You know,¡± Ed continued, as if unaware of the Psyker¡¯s growing rage and his indignant remark, ¡°I once thought you were someone impressive¡­ I really almost wavered, I almost stopped being a double agent for McCarthy¡­ almost. But you know why I didn¡¯t?¡±

    Jannes relaxed, he was genuinely curious about this question.

    The black Psyker gave a casual laugh, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I was gunna tell you anyways.¡± Ed leaned in and bared his pearly white teeth, ¡°You¡¯re weak!¡±

    Jannes¡¯ face twitched, as if someone was whispering in his ear.

    Ed cocked an eyebrow in surprise, the expected outburst of rage didn¡¯t occur.

    The uninvited guest tugged at his shirt and straightened his cuffs. His voice was oily and seductive, laced with psychic energy, ¡°Ed¡­ today I didn¡¯t come for you or your kids. Today I came on behalf of my master.¡±

    Ed looked surprised, ¡°Paderborn?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ his name is L. T. Paderborn, a gentleman of the finest class.¡± Jannes tapped his fingers as he spoke, his calm expression betrayed by the nervous tick, ¡°I have a message for McCarthy.¡±

    ¡°So you came here, because you were afraid to see him yourself?¡±

    Jannes nodded, ¡°It¡¯s hardly something to be ashamed of, who isn¡¯t afraid of your psychopathic boss?¡±

    ¡°Just say the message, McCarthy¡¯s listening anyways, it¡¯s not like there¡¯s much of a difference.¡±

    Jannes¡¯ eyes went wide, ¡°Wait, he can hear me?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s probably on his way now.¡±

    As if on cue the dull clack of leather dress shoes sounded in the house. There was no sound of a door opening. Nor the creak of floorboards. McCarthy had entered quietly. His blue eyes were aglow with light as with electricity, the bright glow of his eyes offset his dark blue jacket, pants and tie. And he was spotless, not a speck of dirt on him ¡ª like his clothes had been freshly laundered. His orange vest and white shirt were immaculately pressed and clean. There wasn¡¯t even any dirt was on his shoes, as if he had flown here. Black hair combed back perfectly. He walked up to the table. Ed pulled back a chair with his mind. McCarthy gave a slight nod and sat down on the chair.

    Jannes pissed himself.

    Ed was inwardly shocked. Damn¡­ how¡¯s he get in like that? I never sense him!

    McCarthy pulled out a cigarette. It was black. He lit it and drew in a deep breath and exhaled it directly on Jannes. His lips quirked playfully at Jannes¡¯ stiff reaction, ¡°Buck up scum, you¡¯re not dead¡­ yet.¡±

    Jannes was shaking.

    ¡°Oh¡­¡± McCarthy¡¯s tone was soft, almost caring, ¡°You seem nervous¡­ how about a glass of water.¡± A wind brushed by them. A tap turned on in the kitchen. A cupboard opened. A cup floated out of the kitchen and a stream of water followed, filling it in mid-air. The tap turned off. The glass was set on the table with a clink, and gently slid over to Jannes.

    Jannes stared at the glass like it was the avatar of death itself.

    McCarthy looked at him, his eyes still aglow, ¡°Drink it.¡±

    ¡°No thank ¡ª¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a suggestion.¡±

    Jannes shakily took the glass and began lifting it to his lips.

    ¡°HEY ¡ª Hold on.¡±

    Jannes froze, his eyes darted to McCarthy, startled at the outburst.

    McCarthy pulled out a small black bottle from his pocket and uncorked it. He stretched out his hand, letting lit lazily brush under Jannes'' nose. The Psyker twitched. McCarthy smiled and gently tipped the bottle over, slowly. He let a couple drops fall into the cup, the water turned a deep black.

    McCarthy tucked the bottle away and smiled softly, ¡°Sorry, I almost forgot the flavouring¡­ you may drink now.¡±

    Jannes eyes were wide with horror, ¡°You can¡¯t kill me! I¡¯m Paderborn¡¯s right-hand man!¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re that stupid,¡± McCarthy condescendingly replied.

    Jannes sputtered with no response.

    ¡°Let me break it down for you¡­ Paderborn knows it¡¯s just a matter of time until I find him. So, he¡¯s given you as a peace offering¡­ something for me to chew on for awhile.¡± Like lightning McCarthy reached out and grabbed Jannes face and pulled him close. The Psyker screeched with fear, but found he was unable to even mobilize the slightest bit of resistance. His eyes darted about in confusion.

    McCarthy sneered at him, ¡°It was an airborne anti-psychosis agent¡­ I only needed to add some water to it and let you breathe it in. What¡¯s the matter? Can¡¯t feel your Psychic powers?! Hehehehe!¡± Jannes¡¯ jowls jiggled as McCarthy¡¯s grip threatened to tear his face off. McCarthy stared into Jannes¡¯ fearful eyes, ¡°I know you¡¯re watching Paderborn! This isn¡¯t enough of an offering! I¡¯m not satisfied! I¡¯m still coming for you!¡± Bones in Jannes¡¯ face creaked and cracked under McCarthy¡¯s grip, McCarthy¡¯s face went violent, ¡°I¡¯LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!¡±

    McCarthy shook the Psyker violently and Jannes¡¯ foamed at the mouth, his eyes rolled back so that the whites were visible. McCarthy dropped him. Jannes tumbled to the ground like a sack of meat, his body limp from the abuse.

    ¡°Find him! Find his trail! Find where he came from and where he went! Find out everything about him!¡±

    Ed nodded solemnly. McCarthy didn¡¯t even look at him. The Chancellor kicked the unmoving body of Jannes, with a smack it flew into a wall. His face warped into a savage grin, ¡°Elderweiss and I will find all the secrets his body is hiding¡­ don¡¯t worry¡­ we won¡¯t kill him.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t worried.¡±

    McCarthy turned on Ed, his expression savage. Ed backed up. McCarthy¡¯s eyes, which were wild with anger, slowly softened as they fell on the wedding ring on Ed¡¯s finger. His voice now gruff and hoarse, he spoke, ¡°For reasons that are none of your damn business, I forgive you. I forgive you for thinking of betraying me. You have fifteen years to find out who is connected to Jannes in this school¡­ then¡­ then I will do a purge¡­ then that damn Melankomas will burn¡­ him and his department of traitors.¡±

    Ed nodded stiffly.

    McCarthy tossed his cigarette. Floated Jannes¡¯ body and walked out.

    Ed sank into his chair after the door shut, his face sagging with wrinkles of worry and age, ¡°There¡¯s not enough time¡­ there¡¯s never enough time¡­ there¡¯s never¡­ enough¡­ time.¡±

    He sat at the table smoking. For hours. The mid-afternoon sun had turned into the setting sun, then the setting sun to the sunken sun and soon the moon was out. Every time his pipe was almost empty he stuffed more tobacco inside. But this time he didn¡¯t, the tobacco was almost out, he sucked an extra deep breath of smoke. Tugged his leather jacket around his body and dusted off his denim jeans. He got up. His body tired. His mind exhausted. His everything wearied. He went up the stairs and put a few more drops of liquid in the twins¡¯ mouths. He walked down the stairs, his steps shaky and unsteady. He stopped at the front door, and looked back, too hesitant and shaky to leave his house ¡ª to leave his kids in the protection of a monster. He tugged at his black leather jacket and ran a wrinkly hand along his exposed boney chest. His collarbone felt delicate and fragile. He flexed his reattached hand and slipped it into the pocket of his navy-blue denim jeans. He lit another off his black leather shoes and let the moonlight caress his black skin. He sucked deeply on his pipe and pulled himself together, stole a glance up the stairs to where the twins were sleeping and whispered under his breath, ¡°Papa will be back¡­ soon.¡±

    He tapped his pipe on the door, letting the ash fall to the floor. He stored it in his pocket. Stashed his tobacco and walked out into the night.

 Chapter 26: The Gentleman

    Thwack! Thwack!

    Squeak.

    Thump.

    Thump.

    The squeak of leather on hardwood floor. The sound of a stick hitting a soft target. The heavy footfalls of manoeuvring. Deep breaths. A tall figure spun around in the air, landing heavily on his feet before turning again. His arm shot out, stick in hand, and struck a training dummy with such force it almost toppled over.

    He bent back, as if evading an invisible foe. He spun around behind the dummy and slyly struck it on the ankle, the sound of wood on wood clacking in the hall. Sweat poured down his face, his shaggy black hair flailed about as he moved. His loose white open-necked shirt billowed out as he turned and struck the dummy again ¡ª harder than before.

    The dummy rebounded back, as if propelled by an invisible force.

    He small smile crosses his round face. His skin was white and smooth. He turned again, elegantly moving through the air with the grace of a ballroom dancer. He leapt and spun, striking the target three times! He struck the ankle of dummy as he took off, smashed its face in mid air and then wind-milled his arm ¡ª finishing off with a ferocious thrust. The dummy was almost knocked clean off the floor! But again, it rebounded back.

    An empty sleeve dangled as he paused. He softly spun his feet around and approached, like a wild beast targeting his prey. His soft black cotton trousers, white socks and black tightly bound leather sandals hung close to his body as he inched along. The hard leather making no noise at his subtle advance. One small slide after another, he closed the gap between himself and the dummy.

    His lifeless training companion stared back at him mutely, the peak of its defiance. The dummy seemed to regard his sneak with a silent arrogance, as if it didn¡¯t need to dignify this meagre advance with a response. It¡¯s unmoving form in a state of perpetual haughtiness.

    The fight almost seemed unfair. A nimble young man, with thick cords of muscle barely concealed underneath his clothes. And a lifeless dummy.

    But a mangy smile in a dark corner of the room proved the dummy was not alone. He had a friend in this cold heartless battle. The scales were not as one-sided as they appeared. The figure in the corner had a long patchy white goatee, spectacles and a loose hooded robe. The cloth was torn and tattered, covered in bright coloured patches. A shoeless foot peeked out of the shadowy corner, his big toe hesitantly peeping out of a musty sock. The man in the corner grinned and snapped his fingers.

    Whoosh!

    The dummy roared to life! Its wood pulsated with a burst of green energy and glowed with vitality. The scarecrow like figure blinked with a low level of sentience. Like a wild animal. It seemed to peer at the young man, its body trembling with anger ¡ª as if recalling a plethora of beatings. Emboldened by its power charged at his nemesis. No more would he be a slave! Freedom was his!

    The young man with the loose white shirt let out a small laugh. His plain looking round face transformed by the unexpected turn of events.

    The dummy leapt forward violently, i¡¯s makeshift fist howling in the air.

    He turned, an empty shirt sleeve flapping as he moved.

    He only had one arm.

    He was tall. Over six feet. Thick with muscles, but still slender. His eyes a dazzling brown, bursting with energy.

    He sidestepped another of the dummy¡¯s haphazard haymakers.

    The dummy let loose a high kick.

    The boy leaned back and tumbled on the ground, his arm whirling in the air simultaneously, striking the dummy¡¯s ankle viciously.

    The training dummy almost fell over, its wooden frame cracked from the powerful strike. It¡¯s face silently shouting in pain.

    The man in the corner snapped his fingers, green energy mended the tear.

    But before the dummy could rejoice it was hit with a series of blows.

    Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

    The thin stick in the boy¡¯s hand was unnaturally strong, but it could barely withstand the blows. Soon it creaked and groaned.

    Then splintered.

    Green energy rushed from his hand, wreathing the stick with a glowing energy ¡ª a little more vibrant than the dummies. The splintering stopped, and the beating continued. The little wooden stick seemed to be knit of steel. It was now a battle of energy!

    The old man was faster, more experienced and more skilled. He knit the dummy¡¯s wounds and simultaneously moved the little puppet to strike.

    The young man, despite the wild style he used, appeared reserved. His use of the energy was sloppy, but the vibrancy and purity of the green was enough to keep the stick in his hands intact.

    The dummy tried to cry out, it was losing more wood than it was healing. The battle had turned into a one-sided walloping. But then realized it was just an animated piece of wood. An extension of the man in the corner, just a small fragment of his mind. The man in the corner winced with every blow, locked eyes with the dummy¡¯s pleading expression and then sighed.

    As another blow struck the dummy¡¯s head, the green energy keeping it up vanished, and its wooden cranium exploded in a shower of wooden fragments.

    The young man looked disappointed.

    ¡°Training is over today Oz!¡±

    ¡°Grandpa Eb! But the test is ¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough out of you boy!¡± Ebenezer Black stood up and stepped out of the shadowy corner. His tone severe but his narrow eyes were dancing with mirth.

    ¡°Fine¡­¡± Oz stored his training stick in his pocket.

    ¡°Oz¡­ take off all the gear¡­¡±

    ¡°But Grandpa!¡±

    ¡°No buts!¡± Ebenezer smacked him upside the head. ¡°These weights are useless to you now boy, you have trained your body to the utmost. The growth formulas I gave you have put you in peak physical condition, there is no more maturing left for you to do. Anymore of this mundane training is just a waste of your time, by cultivating regularly you¡¯ll maintain the strength you have acquired.¡±

    Oz tried to protest, but a sharp look from the old man cut him off. Wordlessly he pulled of an assortment of weights from his ankles, wrists, waist and back.

    ¡°Take off the sandals too.¡±

    ¡°Ugh fine!¡± He kicked his sandals off on the ground.

    ¡°And the ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fine!¡± He took off his shirt, revealing a heavy vest. He slipped it off, steadying it with his mouth and tugging at it with his hand, he threw it on the ground absently.

    ¡°NO! DON¡¯T THIS FLOOR ISN¡¯T ¡ª¡±

    Ebenezer tried to grab the vest, but it was too late, it smashed through the floor with a loud crash!

    Ebenezer was livid. He rounded on the boy, all mirth gone only anger remained.

    Oz shrank back, fear in his eyes evident.

    Ebenezer spat at him in a fury, ¡°What?! You think this is free! We can¡¯t repair wood of this level, this was a special floor!¡± Spittle flew from his mouth as a tirade against the evils of society and the wretchedness of youth began.

    ¡°Grandpa I¡¯m ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare ¡®Grandpa¡¯ me! This, oh this young man, I¡¯m writing you out a debt certificate, you owe me for this floor. This is Nine Heavens Divine Saintly Oak! It increases the ability of Wood Cultivators to harness energy, this kind of stuff can¡¯t just be fixed by shooting some green juice in it!¡± Ebenezer¡¯s chin quivered with righteous indignation. ¡°Oh, the nerve! Young people today don¡¯t know the value of money. There are many sins in this world, but the greatest of all is waste! Money must never be wasted you disgusting cretin. Haven¡¯t I trained you? Your carelessness sickens me¡­ I hope you fail your entrance examinations! I hope McCarthy spits on you and calls you a useless waste of space¡­ because people who don¡¯t treat money right¡­ Oh¡­ Let me tell you! They don¡¯t deserve to life!¡±

    ¡°I think you mean ¡®live¡¯¡­¡± Oz mumbled weakly.

    Ebenezer¡¯s nostrils flared as he grabbed Oz¡¯s shirt and pulled him close, his saliva spraying as he hissed, ¡°Oh¡­ a grammarian¡­ Mr. Words! Mr. Big Vocabulary! Oh, so wise and mighty¡­ You know the appropriate tenses to use in the appropriate places¡­ Oh good for you. But do you know the value of a ducat?!¡±

    With a shake, Ebenezer tossed Oz to the floor and gargled a thick loogie and spat it at the young man¡¯s feet. His tone was derisive and his face ice cold, ¡°You make me want to vomit¡­ words¡­ bah humbug!¡±

    ¡°Now, Ebenezer don¡¯t be so petty.¡±

    A soft feminine voice called out from the doorway. Oz and Ebenezer turned to see a young girl.

    She looked like a teenager, on the brink of leaving those years behind. Her face was oval and her skin the colour of coffee with cream. Curly black hair, tinged with orange, tied into a braid hung to the base of her neck. She wore white riding pants and high black leather boots and a blue military trim jacket and a white shirt underneath, all buttoned up but barely hiding her shapely figure. Her outfit matched her expression. Serious ¡ª though her words were light-hearted.

    Spit flew from Ebenezer¡¯s mouth as he launched into another tirade, ¡°Dammit Gwen! You always take his side! Who takes the side of the floor?! The wood so brutally snatched at the pinnacle of life? What of the gold, so fastidiously mined from the earth and torn from its mother¡¯s breast, then beaten in hot flames until it is made to comply! What of the ¡ª¡±

    ¡°He needs to pay his respects before the exam¡­ we don¡¯t have a lot of time,¡± Gwen softly replied.

    Ebenezer deflated like a popped balloon.

    ¡°I see,¡± he said. ¡°So, it¡¯s that time of year too?¡±

    ¡°Will you be visiting Papa tonight?¡± Oz sat up from the ground, softly rubbing his tender cheeks.

    ¡°Of course boy, I am a man of compassion¡­ Off you go, Ed¡¯s probably waiting.¡± Ebenezer folded his knobbed fingers behind his back regally, like a man of import, and strode out of the dojo towards his own home. He paused at the back entrance and traced the wood fondly. He, Oz, Gwen, Lillywen and Ed had built this place for Oz, it wasn¡¯t cheap. But without it, the boy stood no chance of passing the entrance examinations for the Sect¡¯s Youth Program. He was even applying for the first-year program at the age of seventeen ¡ª and after much tutelage. Regular applicants applied at around thirteen, with no training. But Oz¡¯s low talent and affinity to what was widely considered a useless element, left him with little choice. Ebenezer let his hand slide from the grainy wood leaving his reflections behind, he looked at Gwen and Oz standing in the doorway.

    The young man laughing bashfully as his sister lightly scolded him. The two of them were framed by the gray light of the early morning.

    All of a sudden Ebenezer felt very old. He looked at his gnarled and wooden skin, its hue looking less and less human with every passing day. His time was going to come soon. It was getting harder and harder for him to move and he could hear the voices of the plants more and more. Whispering to him. Calling him.

    His hand started shaking. He clamped it.

    ¡°Tell your sister I say I wish her the best,¡± Ebenezer wheezed out, barely managing to keep his voice steady. ¡°And Oz, if you don¡¯t pass the test¡­ do me a favour and cut off your other arm.¡± Ebenezer tugged his hood over his head and walked out.

    *****

    The brother and sister duo made their way along a foresty path. The sun had barely risen, and the morning dew had drenched their feet as they walked. The crunch of foot on dirt and stone almost foreign to the stillness of the woods. It was their only sound. Gwen was typically a quiet girl and many thought she had learned the habit from Oz ¡ª she was quiet boisterous when she was young, but as she grew older she changed. Lilywen had started chasing boys, typically the untrustworthy kind, but Gwen had stayed close to her brother. The silence suited Oz just fine. Part of him loved walking in these woods, another part of him feared it. Oz couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over him, as if these woods were a significant part of his memory. Whenever he walked here the box in the back of his mind would rattle.

    That damn box¡­

    To this day he didn¡¯t know what it was. But it was sitting there. Whenever he tried to imagine something in his mind, to recall memories or learn ¡ª it was there. Intruding upon his mind. One time, while he was cultivating, he tried to force it open. But, as if it was just an apparition of light it faded out of his reach. It was almost as annoying as when people spread jam on toast with a spoon.

    Mama¡­

    His Mom always did that, she would always spread jam with a spoon.

    He sniffled.

    Turned his head.

    He felt warm breath on his cheek.

    Then almost screamed as he noticed Gwen¡¯s eyes boring a hole into his face, just a hairsbreadth from his face.

    When did she get so close? Damn Martial Arts Cultivators¡­ Oz sniffed again, then pompously harrumphed while flapping his arm loudly, making the fabric whip about in the air. He then folded his arm behind his back, threw his shoulders back and continued walking forward ¡ª with the posture of an old man.

    Gwen kept pace and kept staring, her fiery gaze locked on him.

    Oz grew irate.

    ¡°May I help you young, lady?¡± He asked, his tone none too friendly.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing it again¡­¡± was all she said.

    Oz flapped his arm like a rooster trying to fly, ¡°I beg your pardon!¡± His face flushed red with embarrassment.

    ¡°You are such an old man.¡±

    Oz stopped walking. He turned and faced his sister.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡±

    ¡°Nothing, but you¡¯ll never get a girlfriend at this rate.¡±

    Oz snorted, ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just not interested.¡±

    ¡°I think sometimes you¡¯re too interested, especially based on how your ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not another word,¡± Oz hurriedly cut his sister off, his face redder than before.

    She gave a slight smile, ¡°You always cheer me up¡­ brother.¡±

    Oz cleared his throat loudly.

    Her grin grew wider, ¡°You are such an old man.¡±

    The two of them kept walking together.

    Soon they passed by a bridge. A name came to his mind. The Bridge of Nineteen Sparrows. What a pompous name¡­ but this place¡­ this place. It is dear to me¡­ and I just can¡¯t figure out why. He pursed his lips in contemplation as they walked by the bridge. Beyond the bridge was an island, the island had been sequestered off by the Chancellor¡¯s command. There was an invisible wall of wind shutting off the little patch of land from everywhere else. Flowers had started to grow on the mound and the beginnings of a mulberry tree had sprouted, the sapling only a few years old. That island tugged at him with an unnatural pull, he spent many hours standing on that bridge and staring at that island. Waiting, just trying to see if anything would come to him. The box would rattle away, but nothing would happen. Another mystery.

    Gwen carefully noted every head turn and every look of nostalgia that crossed Oz¡¯s face. Oz took note of her careful noting. He nudged her with his elbow.

    ¡°What is it? What are you watching me so closely for?¡±

    ¡°I always wonder why Papa put the graves out here, you and him have the same look when you walk by this place¡­ What do you know?¡± Her tone wasn¡¯t hostile, probing or overbearing. Just simple curiosity.

    Oz stopped and looked at his sister. His demeanour all of a sudden heavy. She tensed up in response, her eyes darting about to see if anyone was listening. Oz leaned back regally and let the wind tousle his hair as he looked off into the distance.

    ¡°I will tell you¡­ but you need to keep a secret.¡±

    Oz spoke in a hushed whisper. A whisper so slight Gwen could barely hear. She leaned in eagerly, delighted at an unexpectedly juicy turn of events.

    Oz leaned forward.

    Gwen perked up her ears.

    His voice was slow and breathy, each word a barely audible whisper dripping from his mouth, ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t¡­ know¡­¡±

    ¡°Dammit Oz!¡± She punched him ferociously, almost knocking him clean off his feet.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    He tumbled into the grass.

    She pounced on him, clearly aiming to give him a few more for good measure. Spinning his legs, Oz used the momentum to roll out of the way and stand up on his feet.

    His sister stepped back after his quick dodge and regarded him evenly, ¡°You¡¯ve gotten much better.¡±

    ¡°Without my sword I¡¯m useless, my physical strength is way too low¡­¡± Oz turned his head, allowed himself a depreciating smile, and started walking as Gwen looked on. ¡°But look at you¡­ you don¡¯t even have a Cultivation Method yet, you¡¯ve just been doing some basic Anatomical stuff, for your body to be this strong, your talent truly is amazing.¡± Oz turned, gave his sister a tight smile and started walking again.

    She fell instep with him.

    They walked on a for a few more minutes.

    Before they reached the last turn in the path before the tombstones, Oz tapped Gwen on the shoulder and said, ¡°Thanks a lot¡­ thanks a lot both of you¡­ for¡­ delaying your acceptance until I got in¡­ but¡­ if I don¡¯t get into the Academy this time¡­ you should just go ahead.¡±

    Gwen¡¯s expression was serious, ¡°Waiting any longer for you wasn¡¯t an option.¡±

    They shared a small smile and Oz was about to respond as rough voice barged in on their conversation.

    ¡°Stop talking¡­ this is a sacred place.¡±

    Ed¡¯s voice cut off any chance of Oz replying to Gwen. The two of them looked at Ed. But his expression was cold and hard. They averted their eyes from their adoptive father.

    Sensing their fear Ed gruffly said, ¡°Damn kids, you think I could get mad at you? Just get over here¡­ say some words.¡±

    Oz looked up at his father.

    Ed¡¯s face was wrinkled and worn with the passage of time, it hadn¡¯t been that long since Edna¡¯s injury (relative to Cultivators), but the stress was getting to him. He pulled tight a nearly shredded black leather jacket, a keepsake from his wife. Rough blue denim jeans and a rough black belt coupled with black leather shoes completed his outfit. As always, there was nothing underneath Ed¡¯s jacket, leaving his boney chest exposed to the world. A mass of scars crisscrossed his body, a couple of them fresh. Certain wounds could not be healed all the way, whether because of curses or enchantments. Each scar testified to a dangerous battle. A couple were fresh, the smell of black magic still lingering ¡ª festering in the wound, stopping it from getting healed. Ed scratched one of his scars, then winced at the pain. His hand passed over his bald head, then absently thumbed the rings on his fingers as he met the eyes of his children. His angular face drooped with sadness when he saw Gwen¡¯s aghast expression. ¡°Don¡¯t be scared of me¡­ it¡¯s been awhile¡­¡±

    ¡°Papa!¡± Gwen almost burst into tears as she sprinted towards her father and wrapped him in a tight hug. The old man gently patting her head, ¡°I was only gone for a week Gwen¡­¡±

    ¡°But you have more! You have more ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shhhh¡­ that¡¯s enough outta you¡­ come on. Pay your respects, then I¡¯ll walk you to the Testing Ground.¡± Ed turned to look at Oz. The boy¡¯s orange and brown eyes were staring at him. Searching him. Ed felt his heart clench, those eyes of his, they always seemed to reach deep within his soul. Like they were the dearest of friends a long time ago, they were filled with reproach. He didn¡¯t need to say anything, Oz didn¡¯t need to move. His anger and displeasure at Ed taking these dangerous missions was plain. The disapproval grew even more when Ed tried to reach for his pipe. The tobacco being one of the only things that still calmed him down.

    Ed stopped.

    The reproach waned.

    Ed felt the need to defend himself, he mumbled softly, ¡°McCarthy promised triple pay¡­ I¡¯ve been ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Money is just a tool for happiness. We ought not forget the reason we use it in the first place¡­ Papa.¡± Oz¡¯s voice was soft, almost comforting, like a father speaking to a son.

    Ed blushed like a boy who had just been scolded, ¡°Damn boy, whadda you know? Huh?!¡±

    ¡°I know this much.¡± Oz took a few steps forward to the first gravestone. He bowed his head in respect and stood silently. Soon Gwen was beside him, after she had managed to tear herself away from Ed.

    Ed consigned himself to mumbling before somberly staring at the gravestones. There were ten gravestones. On that day almost twelve years ago, when Oz¡¯s potential changed and his future was decided, he left on a mission. His mission to find out who was connected to Jannes in the school, all his hidden accomplices. In that time, he¡¯d found hundreds of people. Students. Elders. Deacons. Even townsfolk! He had three more years and he knew there were at least twice as many people to be found. But because of that mission, because of the tightness of the events of that day. He didn¡¯t hear till almost a month later when he returned to the sect. How his children had been brutally murdered. Muscles torn from bone. Bodies broken. Limbs severed. It was gruesome. McCarthy himself found out only the day after. No one had seen it coming. They all had forgotten that Lee had known almost everything about them. The enemy had access to almost all their information, he knew all their weaknesses. He knew how to hurt them.

    Paderborn and his witches.

    His eyes wandered to the tombstones. He clenched his fists.

    He would mutilate them and feed their bodies to the crows! Lee had killed ten of his twelve children that night and left his wife crippled. It was a shame McCarthy had killed the man. But there were plenty more people left for Ed to satiate himself with, his revenge would be total and final. Then, hopefully by then¡­ his wife would awake¡­ and things could return as they once were. Dear God of the Green Hills, I beg you! Ed mumbled a silent prayer in his heart.

    Ed choked back tears.

    My babies¡­

    Oz and Gwen finished paying their respects. The trio then walked on in silence towards the testing ground. The mood too heavy for any sort of conversation.

    *****

    The town was bustling with life. Carriages stormed along the roads and children laughed in the streets. Tea and snack stalls hailed patrons trying to sell their wares. Families sat at benches and tables along the roads enjoying the afternoon festivities. The little town of about ten thousand people was now bursting at the seams. Its numbers swelled to almost ten times that amount. Special security was brought in and the School provided its own Deacons and merchants to hawk wares and to keep all things peaceful. A special contingent of Guards was even brought over from a nearby city just for this purpose. But it was still a rowdy time. Violence sprang up here and there coupled with petty theft. The occasional fight was broken up by men in green uniforms with steel breastplates. Colourful outfits of overcoats, vests, dresses and riding pants were everywhere: peddlers, vagrants, ne¡¯er-do-wells and miscreants.

    Oz, Ed and Gwen were walking down the main road. Some street children bumped into a fat nobleman and picked his pockets. The man shouted, and his Cultivator bodyguard chased down the children. Some screams and the sound of a whipping spoke of the result. A burly man carrying two heavy barrels of wine was startled as the fat nobleman bumped into him ¡ª while complaining about the children. The man cried out as he dropped a barrel of wine that burst onto the street, his product now scattered on the road. Red liquid splashed on a noblewoman¡¯s dress. Before the burly man could garner an apology and compensation the noblewoman had already started shouting at the burly man, who pulled down his bowler cap with an apologetic expression. A young man with a red embroidered shirt tugged on the fat man¡¯s arm, and the two of them hustled away ¡ª avoiding their role in this whole debacle. In the din of the hustle and bustle of the crowd a bald black man walked with his two children, the three of them watching all the going-ons with bemusement. Today was a special day.

    It was Selection Day.

    Well more like selection month, since people hardly would travel for days just to stay somewhere for a few hours.

    That aside, today was the annual testing day for everyone who wanted to apply to the Sect of Sagacity. The gifted: Cultivators, Wizards, Alchemists, Martial Artists and the like, had all gathered in the town for a chance to make something of themselves. Older gifted wandering vagabonds had also come, to acquire powerful backing and to find a relatively safe place to pursue immortality. Though these people were technically ¡°gifted¡± as well, their potential was too lacking and their age too high to be accepted as students. But if they performed well in the tests they could always be hired as a Deacon, from there the possibility of promotion was strong ¡ª granted that they survived a few years. The young, who were talented and brimming with potential, applied for the Academy. Everyone applied first for the Secular Studies Division, high grades were required in literature, math, science and history. They then took a Cultivation and Combat Test. If they didn¡¯t get passing grades on one, then they were promptly swept out the door.

    There was also a large number of ungifted who also applied every year, hoping to find work as Research Assistants, Administrators and the like.

    But the majority were the talented youths from all over the region. Ancient noble families, wealthy merchants and powerful bureaucrats all sent their children to this school. People came from all over, this was one of the top institutions in the world after all. There was another reason people sent their children to this school. McCarthy was one of the most powerful people in all the world, the chance that the school would be destroyed by its enemies was next to nil! It was not an uncommon thing in this world for Schools, Sects or Academies to be wiped out overnight by their enemies. But McCarthy was normally the one doing the wiping out.

    ¡°Over here!¡±

    Ed, Gwen and Oz turned their heads to see who called.

    It was Lilywen. Her orangeish curls and blue eyes bounced with excitement as she waved. Her bubbly expression and actions in sharp contrast to her sister¡¯s more calm demeanour.

    Ed waved back. Then looked at Oz and Gwen, ¡°You two go on ahead, I¡¯m in charge of the Psyker Test.¡±

    With that Ed melted into the throng of people and was gone before his daughter had arrived.

    Oz saw Lilywen¡¯s face droop with disappointment, he quickly stepped forward with Gwen, ¡°Dear sister! Where were you this morning?¡±

    ¡°Papa didn¡¯t tell you?¡± Lilywen distractedly replied while peeking behind them, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ed.

    Gwen hugged her sister, bringing her back to the present with a rare dazzling smile. ¡°You look great, love what you did with the outfit!¡±

    Lilywen blushed in response, ¡°Aw sis! Thanks¡­ it was your idea, the blue on white.¡± She smoothed the long blue dress and gently touched the white sleeves. Slits went up from the knees all the way to her waist, revealing tight white riding pants and black leather boots.

    Oz stood back and stroked his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Yes ignore me¡­ I¡¯m not here. I didn¡¯t ask a question at all.¡±

    Gwen glared at Oz.

    He loudly cleared his throat avoiding her gaze.

    Lilywen pulled herself from her sister¡¯s embrace, ¡°I was training with Papa this morning, he told me if I pass the entrance examination, he¡¯ll give me a new manual!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were a Psyker¡­¡± Oz was nonplussed.

    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± The curt reply was followed by a very long and large eyeroll.

    Gwen sniggered, ¡°Leave ent man alone, he¡¯s been communing with nature, cut him some slack.¡±

    ¡°Oz can talk to plants!¡± Lilywen¡¯s eyes went wide in amazement, a newfound respect lingered in the back of her eyes.

    If Gwen was the kind of girl to give an eyeroll, she would have done a three-sixty. But she settled for a light tsk tsk. She poked her sister, ¡°Your head is full of nothing but boys!¡±

    Oz cleared his throat loudly, ¡°Someone asked a question¡­¡±

    Lilywen pushed Gwen away and stood in front of her brother, ¡°Can you talk to trees?¡±

    Oz sighed majestically and pat his sister¡¯s head, as if he was not part of the mortal coil, ¡°Of course, it is one of the least of my abilities.¡±

    Lilywen gasped in delight.

    Gwen¡¯s jaw hung open. She stuttered, ¡°Wh ¡ª wh ¡ª what did you say?¡±

    ¡°Sisters please, with my genius Wood Affinity did you think such a small task was impossible?¡± He regarded his siblings haughtily.

    They shrank in response.

    Gwen hoarsely asked, her throat dry from shock, ¡°Can you actually speak to plants?¡±

    Oz flashed an enigmatic grin at Gwen, ¡°Ah yes¡­ and they have a lot to say about you and your¡­ affections.¡±

    Gwen dryly coughed.

    Oz turned around, ¡°Let¡¯s go ¡ª ah, Lil!¡±

    ¡°Hmmm?¡± Lilywen cocked her head to the side, showing off a pair of studded earrings.

    ¡°What were you training with ¡ª¡± Oz felt his breath catch as her fist stopped just an inch from his face. The blood drained from his face.

    She quirked a wry grin, ¡°Boxing!¡± She casually placed an arm on his elbow and walked beside Oz with a beaming smile.

    ¡°I¡­ see¡­ Well then¡­ let¡¯s ¡ª¡± Oz felt a tug on his armless shoulder, he turned to see Gwen with a violent expression. Her nails were digging into his skin. He winced in pain. He tried to stutter out a question, but she beat him to the punch.

    ¡°What did you hear about my ¡®affections¡¯?¡± Her grip tightened on his arm like a crab¡¯s claw.

    ¡°It was a joke! No one can talk to plants! They don¡¯t have souls, they don¡¯t have minds, what the frick would they say?!¡± Oz screamed at her in a silent whisper. Relief flooded Gwen¡¯s face, her grip loosened. Lilywen looked on mystified at what had transpired, and Gwen cleared her throat awkwardly (as if trying to wipe away the memory of what had transpired) and started tugging them all forward.

    The three of them walked on together.

    From the outside, he looked like the luckiest man in the world! A pair of beautiful twins hanging off his arms¡­ er¡­ arm. Smiling and laughing happily with one another. But looks can be deceiving! Nothing is more terrifying than going somewhere with overachieving family members who look better than you, are more talented than you, more likeable than you ¡ª who really are just everything you¡¯re not. But none of these thoughts were in his mind. Something else was occupying his thoughts.

    Oz felt the box in his mind rattle with every step he took. This town. Especially whenever his eyes landed on a tea stall, those were a heyday for the box in his mind. This box had caused him no small amount of stress. He felt his mind whirring about. Perhaps I have an inheritance left behind by some great expert! And at the right moment it will burst out and save my life! Or kill me¡­

    A sharp voice intruded upon his thoughts.

    ¡°Lily! Who are you walking with, hey you! Let go of her!¡±

    Oz looked ahead, and saw a young man with bouncy brown hair, olive skin and sharp eyes shouting at them as he ran. The man planted his feet in front of them and stared down the slightly taller Oz, completely unintimidated by the bigger man.

    He wore a loose red cotton shirt, embroidered with gold. The buttons and cuff links on his shirt were solid gold. His black trousers looked to be made of some sort of enchanted fabric and even his leather boots had an odd lustrous hue.

    The boy, noticing eyes were on him, dropped his voice to a low whisper, ¡°What are you doing holding my Lily?¡± His eyes were aflame with desire.

    Oz¡¯s eyes lit up. He looks familiar to me¡­ Ah well, that doesn¡¯t matter. What matters is my sister has a Mr. Moneybags! You can never have too many rich friends! Oz sniffed the air. His mind grew a little sharper. He smells like he needs a punishing¡­ Oz¡¯s eyes roamed around the lad¡¯s body until he saw it, tucked away on the side of his belt. The storage pouch. No problem.

    ¡°Leo! Leave my brother alone!¡± Lily almost squeaked at the man. Her cheeks flushed red.

    The man with the red shirt looked abash at the sudden rebuke, a mixture of relief and irritation flooded his face, ¡°Oh, your brother¡­ But still! You shouldn¡¯t let another man hold you, not since we¡­¡±

    ¡°Leo! SHHH!¡±

    Lily¡¯s loud shushing drew Gwen¡¯s wary eyes.

    Oz took note. Clearly, he who is Mr. Moneybags to me is Mr. Prince Charming to you, the nose is never wrong. Oz sighed in his mind. It is a brother¡¯s duty to guide his sister along the straight and narrow! And protect her from such materialistic urges. Be at peace Leo, she only likes you for your money. And you only like her for her body, my conscience is clear.

    ¡°Ah, but I¡¯m not holding her Mister¡­¡± Oz began, trailing off.

    ¡°Leopold Parnassus!¡± Leo drew himself up stiffly, his muscles tensing with every movement, revealing a man in peak physical development. ¡°And you are holding her!¡±

    ¡°Ah, of the Parnassus Circus!¡±

    ¡°¡­ No¡­ of ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Of Parnassus Accounting?¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s my cousin¡¯s family, I¡¯m ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah, my apologies, it must be of Parnassus Industries!¡±

    ¡°Well, not of the Industries¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah, it must be of Parnassus Watches?¡±

    ¡°No¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see, then there is only one, the Parnassus of Sewage and Water!¡±

    ¡°¡­Yes¡­¡±

    ¡°Good money in the sewage industry! Very good money!¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ my family has done well for itself!¡±

    A sly grin crossed Oz¡¯s face, ¡°I hear the ladies are not offended by your industry, I hear your currently dating ¡ª¡±

    Leo raised his hand, stopping the conversation and spoke slowly. ¡°Well now, there¡¯s no need to air out someone¡¯s personal life, there are many unsubstantiated rumors floating about.¡±

    ¡°Rumors, me? I never speak of rumors, I only speak of facts! Are you not incredibly wealthy?¡±

    ¡°Well, I am¡­ I more had in mind my ¡ª"

    Oz shook his head lightly and let out a cheery laugh, one that his sisters had never seen before, ¡°Some people might mock the profession, but they cannot mock the results!¡±

    ¡°Oh, you are a man of taste I see!¡± Leopold relaxed his expression, seeming a little more loose and free. Initially he was off guard, but it seemed that Oz was nothing more than a career flatterer. He asked, ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Names! Names! What is in a name, my name is not Parnassus, what a pity! Perhaps one day one of my relatives would take that name.¡± Oz saw Lilywen blush in his peripheral vision. He continued, an Ebenezer inspired rant on the rise, ¡°Do you know what¡¯s more important than names? The correct outlook! Since I have the correct outlook on you (your immense wealth, handsomeness and philandering) you must have the correct outlook on me!¡± Oz tugged at his white shirt, then pulled a faced blue overcoat with patches on the elbows and in various places and threw it over his white shirt. Biting the collar with his mouth as he pulled his one arm through and then used the arm to pull the loose fabric on his other side through the jacket. Then popped a small blue bowler cap on his head.

    Leo was taken aback at the sudden change of attire and demeanour. His voice grew dangerous, ¡°What do you mean, philandering?¡±

    ¡°Sir, let¡¯s not make this about you, this is about me!¡± Oz¡¯s voice was sharp, his tone alluring, Leo listened closely to this strange man. Oz stared at him, then solemnly declared, ¡°You do me umbrage!¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡± Leo looked confused.

    ¡°You do offend me sir! You accused me of holding Lily¡¯s arm, I have done nothing of the sort, she¡¯s holding mine.¡± Oz gestured expansively, as if painting a picture in the air.

    Leo paused, ¡°I apologize for that sir, I was rash, I didn¡¯t realize you were her brother.¡± His eyes and his tone showed no hint of apology. The hostility only grew, and the beginnings of anger were bubbling in his face.

    Lily looked as if she was about to speak up, but Gwen stealthily pinched her and whispered, ¡°Just watch, brother is doing you a favour.¡±

    ¡°Well sir, that is not a proper apology!¡± Oz began again, his tone a little harder. Leo took note and tensed up in response. ¡°You didn¡¯t say that I wasn¡¯t holding her arm! Please, I see you as the fine rich successful young man that you are. Your family is one of the richest. You are a handsome and intelligent man to boot, if I recall correctly you scored higher than all your siblings on the Pre-Tests¡­¡±

    With every platitude Leo felt more irritation rise, Oz¡¯s compliments had been jeers from the beginning.

    But Oz¡¯s speech was far from over, he continued, a mischievous glint in his eye, ¡°But such a man like you has eyes. Surely, you¡¯re not blind, you must see. She was grabbing me, not I her.¡± Leo looked as if he was on the verge of interrupting, but Oz ploughed through, ¡°Now I understand! My sister is indeed a beautiful woman and I am the closest man to her on this earth and have seen her grow up. Not to mention the fact that we aren¡¯t blood related at all, just being a family of adoptees.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re not related?¡± Leo sounded flustered, anger crept into his voice, his emotions unable to be contained.

    ¡°Yes, well, that isn¡¯t important. What is important is that we have such a close bond, we tell each other everything. She just can¡¯t help but hold on to me, on account of our closeness¡± Oz leaned in to Leo, who was simmering with wrath. The young man almost twitched at every word Oz spoke. But Oz simply added more fuel to the flame. He took off his hat and held it close to his chest and stepped close, his whisper was soft and salacious, ¡°Sometimes our relationship just spills out into public.¡±

    Smack!

    Lilywen gasped.

    Oz dropped to the ground and coughed blood. He barely held on to his bowler cap as he fell. He looked up, blood pouring from his mouth. Let out a small gasp, ¡°You hit me¡­¡± Then dropped as if unconscious.

    Leo heaved heavy breaths, a little shocked at his power. He looked at his bloody knuckles in shock. Then looked at Oz who was plastered on the cold cobblestone, blood leaking from his mouth. This did not look good.

    Lilywen tried to run for her brother. Gwen held her back, her face pale.

    Leo felt alarms go off in his mind at the scene. Passersby stopped and stared. Whispering started among them, soon a crowd had formed. Whispers of ¡°He punched him out of the blue!¡± and ¡°I think his jaw is broken!¡± But seeing Leo¡¯s wealthy attire no one stepped forward to help. Nobles had quite a bit of clout. But within minutes a couple guards showed up, their steel breastplates glistening in the sun.

    ¡°What do we have here?¡± A guard with an unshaven face spat as he walked up. He nodded toward Oz¡¯s unmoving form and another guard went to help him up. The young man with one arm was barely able to support himself, even with the guards help. Onlookers whispered words of pity at the young man¡¯s state. A wave of sympathy washed across the rough looking guard¡¯s face.

    He turned and looked at Leo.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t hit him hard! I swear!¡± Leo was getting worried.

    ¡°Taking advantage of cripple!¡± Oz shouted, blood flew from his mouth as he tried to stand. The crowd was startled at his sudden burst of energy. Oz nearly tottered over from the exertion, he leaned heavily on the guard. The whispers of sympathy only grew. Oz turned to the scruffy looking guard, tugging his jacket close and then taking off his bowler cap, revealing some coins on the inside. ¡°I was just asking for some change, lost me arm a long time ago in a horrible accident, I can¡¯t work anymore¡­ it¡¯s hard to pay the bills. I don¡¯t want to beg, I work hard¡­ some people have seen me! I carry wood through this town a lot¡­ I just needed some money for some food. Anyways¡­ I was asking him for money. At first he jeered. Then I moved on ¡ª I don¡¯t want to be a harasser¡­ But then he called me over, said he¡¯d give me some money. Then he struck me! Out of the blue, after inviting me close!¡±

    The crowd grew agitated at the revelation. The guard¡¯s face turned hostile, he whirled on Leo, his questioning gaze more than enough to elicit a response from the young nobleman.

    ¡°I did not!¡± Leo almost screamed, confusion across his face.

    ¡°He did! I saw the whole thing!¡± A matronly voice called out as a woman wiped floury hands on her apron and stepped forward. A guard with a pen and pad stood beside her, ready to take notes. The woman continued, ¡°This young man approached this guy in the red shirt, took his cap off ¡ª like he was expecting change or something ¡ª then this noble just clocks him over the head. Despicable!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I saw!¡±

    ¡°Me too!¡±

    Leo backed up, fear across his face as he saw some more guards approaching behind him, ¡°You can¡¯t arrest me! It¡¯s a lie! Lily tell ¡ª¡± Leo¡¯s jaw dropped. Lilywen and Gwen were both gone. Nowhere to be seen.

    ¡°Nobles like you disgust me,¡± The burly guard with the scruff spat as he regarded Leo with a denigrating gaze.

    ¡°Wait! No, that¡¯s not what happened! I swear! How dare you! What, kind of man are you?!¡± Leo turned on Oz, his face hot with anger and his hands reaching for his storage pouch.

    Seeing this motion. The guard¡¯s eyes widened. He was not one of the gifted! He couldn¡¯t tousle with Cultivators! He was just a common man, the guard shouted,¡°Get the Praporshchik! It¡¯s a gifted!¡±

    Everyone backed up, only a special unit of the guards could deal with powerful cultivators. The guards immediately went to secure a perimeter keeping civilians at a distance.

    Leo drew a sword from his pouch as the crowd backed up, forming a circle around the combatants. He let his energy flare. Some do-gooders in the crowd immediately backed off. The boy was Understudy Grade. It would take a little bit before someone of sufficient calibre arrived to handle this situation. In that time Leo could kill Oz and be gone, his identity unknown to this group of people.

    Members of the crowd shouted obscentities at Leo, some of the braver ones even threw stones. He brandished his sword at them, aggravating the masses. ¡°Anyone who helps this man today dies!¡± His voice thundered out, laced with energy ¡ª the crowd went silence.

    During the exchange Oz carefully put the bowler cap back on his head. The money in it seemingly vanishing. He tapped his feet on the ground, his black leather sandals lightly clacking on the stone. He wiped blood from his mouth and made sure the rope belt around his black trousers was tight.

    Leo fixed his attention on Oz, ¡°What kind of man are you? Let me teach you a lesson in manners, you think you can frame me? You little prick!¡±

    ¡°Ah, someone else must of punched me!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I did punch you but ¡ª¡±

    ¡°He confessed, he did it!¡± Oz shouted out and the audience murmured with approval.

    Leo smouldered with indignation. ¡°Who. Are. You.¡±

    ¡°Me?¡± Oz pulled out a thin rattan cane from inside the back of his jacket.

    The audience rumbled with surprise. ¡°He¡¯s not a cultivator?¡± And ¡°Where¡¯s his storage pouch?¡± Shock moved through the observers as they waited eagerly to see the outcome. Some waiting for blood, others for justice.

    Oz smiled at Leo, ¡°I am a gentleman.¡±

 Chapter 27: Marshall Swindle

    Oz leaned forward, stretching with all his might, the palm on his hand touching the smooth stony road. His body was taunt like a bowstring. Seconds ticked by as he felt his muscles unwind like twine on the tied a kite. He stood up, locking eyes with Leo.

    Leo¡¯s eyes bubbled with expectation at the thought of finally being able to beat Oz in a duel.

    But then, he leaned down again, smirking to himself.

    Leo¡¯s face burned hot with anger.

    ¡°Are you done stretching?!¡± His voice almost cracked from the strain. He was nervous. Oz had requested permission to stretch before their duel.

    Leo, seeing no reason to decline, had granted it.

    Now, twenty minutes later. He was still facing his opponent, the battle far from begun. The crowd was now so relaxed that they were openly sniggering at him. A small boy at the back had even pulled out a parchment with a charcoal stencil. Leo wanted to cut the damned boy¡¯s hands off, but if he tried to do something that violent the whole crowd might turn into a lynch mob. Powerful as he was, killing a few hundred civilians would be neigh impossible ¡ª not to mention the fallout. No amount of bribery would satiate the Chancellor¡¯s anger, if he heard that someone had slaughtered that many people under his protection¡­ Leo might find his whole family ¡ª rather ¡ª he would be unable to find his whole family, they¡¯d probably all be dead. Since there were going to be witness and since they were going to side with the damn beggar, he might as well play nice. Then, at least, after he was arrested his father shouldn¡¯t have too much difficulty getting him out.

    While Leo fumed and fussed like a peacock, Oz¡¯s mind was at work. His loose white shirt clung close to his skin, underneath the weight of his blue overcoat. He straightened himself up and started gyrating his hips in smooth circles, while feeling the rough elbow patch on his empty sleeve with his only hand.

    He saw Leo getting more and more irritated and more and more fearful that the guards would show up.

    So far so good. Everything was going according to plan. Oz tried to recall everything he knew about the boy.

    Leopold Parnassus was one of the strongest students in his year. He was younger than Oz, only about fifteen, in his second year at the School and already Understudy Grade. When he entered the Academy last year his score was extremely high, there was talks that some of the Teachers had already decided to take him as a pupil. Oz had no idea what grade he himself was (Ebenezer had never let him check, fearing he¡¯d be discouraged), but at this point he was told that he would barely pass the tests for First Year admissions, and he was seventeen. The gap of talent¡­ Oz rued his misfortune. He felt the rattan cane holster behind his shoulder blades, reminding himself of his martial arts. His hand clasped his cane tightly. Oz was a Wood Cultivator and Leo was a Lightning Cultivator, they both cultivated one of the weird elements. Unlike Wood though, people actually wanted to cultivate this aberrant element. Cultivating Lightning increased speed, agility, intelligence and (as a downside) capriciousness. All Lightning Cultivators had a high level of emotional instability ¡ª something he had capitalized on earlier. He didn¡¯t have a lot of strategies to deal with someone of Leo¡¯s calibre, and he didn¡¯t want to use his powers and exhaust himself before the exam. He simply didn¡¯t have the resources to fight Leo. That¡¯s why he had never intended to fight Leo. Step one, agitate the boy. Step two, get him arrested. Easy! But there was a problem¡­

    Where are the bloody guards? Thought Oz. His whole plan hinged on not fighting Leo, but on waiting for the guards to come and arrest him ¡ª then, step three, convince him to settle out of court which led to the very delightful step four: make money. And as a side bonus, rescue Lilywen from a whoring philanderer who a fianc¨¦e and a girl on the side ¡ª and now his sister to boot!

    This damn girl better have not known about this man¡¯s fianc¨¦e. I¡¯ll fricking tattle on her at this rate¡­ But then I¡¯ll have to find a way to convince Papa I didn¡¯t discover all this information by sneaking into his office and reading his bloody notes

    This was the big trouble. Oz wasn¡¯t worried about Ed punishing him, he was more worried Ed would hide his Intelligence Notes in a different spot. This would make life difficult for someone like him who was behind in so many other ways, he had a lot of plans¡­ a lot of them. He needed access to those secret briefings!

    Dammit all! Where are the guards? I can¡¯t stall much longer.

    Now it was Oz¡¯s turn to be irritated. Then just as that had started to affect him, he heard a whiny voice call out.

    ¡°You coward! You call yourself a gentleman, but this is how you behave. Aren¡¯t you ready to fight by now. Fight me now, or maybe I¡¯ll expose your incestuous relationship!¡± Leo¡¯s lip jutted out like a jilted school crush.

    The crowd whispered, gobbling up the juicy gossip.

    This is bloody asinine! Oz wanted to smash his head into the cobblestone. He shot back ¡°Do you call yourself a gentleman? Mr. I have a fianc¨¦e, a side-chick and another girl? ¡± Oz shot back.

    The crowd grew hushed at the salaciousness of the conversation. Leo, for his part, turned positively purple with anger.

    Leo¡¯s eyes narrowed, ¡°How do you know about my fianc¨¦e? That¡¯s a secret!¡±

    ¡°Oh piss off, who hasn¡¯t heard of you and your philandering. I¡¯ve never met you before today, you crazy man!¡±

    ¡°How dare you speak to me like that? You call yourself a gentleman!¡±

    ¡°And I call you an adulterer, you¡¯ll get what¡¯s coming to you, just wait patiently.¡±

    Laughter rippled out in the crowd and cries of ¡°Here! Here!¡±. Leo managed to reign in the purple tinge that had stained his face. Consoling himself with thoughts of violence. His hands twitched. There were too many things in the open now about him. If his fianc¨¦e caught wind of all this, he¡¯d be a dead man. He took a fruitive glance to the boy making the sketch, brutality clear across his face.

    Oz took note. Things were getting dangerous. If Leo lashes out in desperation, he would probably try to kill me and escape before getting identified. Oz glanced at the boy drawing the sketch of Leo. He¡¯ll probably kill the boy and take the sketch¡­

    Oz¡¯s golden specked eyes followed Leo¡¯s gaze. The man was now muttering things under his breath, sweat was pouring down the noble¡¯s back. Leo took a hesitant step towards the boy, inching forward. His hands shook as he clasped his ivory hilted longsword. Leo glanced at the boy then at Oz. His plans were evident. Kill the boy. Then kill him. Then get out.

    As Leo inched towards the boy, ignoring the jeers of the crowd. Oz felt his palms grow cold.

    Dammit! I have to move now!

    He called out, ¡°Running away ¡®Adulterer¡¯?¡±

    Leo froze. ¡°Wh ¡ª wh ¡ª what are you talking about?¡±

    Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of Oz¡¯s cane bouncing on the floor stilled the rumblings of the crowd. Everyone held their breaths. Leo tensed, he sensed something was about to happen. Leo shifted his weight, away from the boy with the sketch. Though he was a young man, he had seen his far share of battles. He knew something was coming.

    Oz squatted down, low, almost like a bullfrog. He extended his right leg forward and shifted back and forth, bouncing nimbly.

    Leo twirled his sword in his hand. Following Oz¡¯s motions with his sword, letting the tip bounce forward and back in rhythm.

    Oz waited a few seconds more, praying the guards would come, bouncing back and forth.

    As time stretched by, nervousness crept across Leo¡¯s face again. Seeing Oz was just bouncing like a ball, his nervousness turned to irritation. His eyes flashed towards the boy with the sketch. He adjusted his guard, and turned his body, inching closer to the boy with the sketch.

    My chance. Oz whispered, his voice carrying to the ears of everyone there, hushed and soothing ¡ª almost sweet.

    ¡°Here I come.¡±

    He shifted his weight to the back foot and pushed with all his might, leaping in the air. The cobblestone cracking from the momentum. Soaring through the air he crossed the distance between himself and Leo in a heartbeat. His cane raised up over his head.

    Leo stumbled, caught of guard and slightly out of position, swinging his sword only by instinct.

    In mid-air Oz brought his cane down, knocking the blade towards the stone ¡ª dropping Leo¡¯s guard. Leo frantically tried to jerk his sword back. But it was too late. Oz landed nimbly on his foot and used it as a pivot, flinging a sharp whip kick to the side of Leo¡¯s head with his other foot.

    Leo leaned back at the last second, almost falling over.

    Oz cranked his arm back and used the momentum from the kick to spin his whole body around, whipping the cane in a wide circle smashing it against the side of his opponent¡¯s head.

    Leo tottered but didn¡¯t fall. He managed to swing his sword out in an awkward slash.

    Oz tsked as he lowered his body, letting Leo¡¯s erratic swing sail by harmlessly.

    Dammit, he jerked back at the last second, I missed his temple.

    He didn¡¯t let up the assault. Before Leo could reposition himself, Oz swung his arm down, the cane like a guided missile striking Leo¡¯s ankle ¡ª snaking passed Leo¡¯s attempt at a parry.

    Leo felt his ankle pop. The Cultivator yelped, his sword falling from his hand at the pain of the strike. The can had struck right on the joint, he felt his ankle swell.

    Leo tried to force lightning from his palm, in a desperate struggle. But then he saw stars.

    Another cane to the face brought Leo back from the night sky, his nose spurting blood. The lightning fizzing out from his hand. Before he could try to channel his powers again, Oz lashed out, again and again and again, oscillating between the shin and the ankle, the wood smashing against his skin. A flurry of blows.

    Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

    Then a crack. Leo screamed as his shin bone caved in.

    The audience winced in response. Jaws dropped open, no one had expected this outcome. Bloodthirst was in the air, their looks turned savage. A rousing cheer went up as Leo barely managed to stay upright, bloodied and broken. People tried to push past some guards to get a better look at the noble¡¯s downfall, the rabble delighted to see one of their so-called ¡°betters¡± come tumbling down.

    Oz didn¡¯t let up, with a sharp in-step he crossed the distance, flipping his cane around, about to pound the hilt of the wood into Leo¡¯s chest. At the moment before impact he glanced up, locking eyes with Leo. Leo¡¯s eyes were bright blue and little worms of electricity squiggled in his hair. Oz felt his hair stand on end.

    Dangerous!

    He stopped mid-blow and leapt back as a pillar of lightning erupted from Leo. The Lightning Cultivator shouted defiantly as bolts of hot yellow energy streaked from his body striking the cobblestone and almost incinerating bystanders. Startled people jumped back as sound of thunderclaps intermingled with piercing cries of pain. Leo¡¯s body convulsed violently as the raw power coursed through his veins, his skin splitting open from the stress. Guards shouted, and an errant bolt struck a soldier in chest, knocking him clean off his feet and into the crowd ¡ª his fate unknown.

    Oz¡¯s eyes were wide, he turned his head, a jolt of electricity narrowly passed by his ear. The smell of burned hair filled his nostrils, the hum of the passing lightning bolt giving him the chills.

    Crackle! Crackle! Crackle!

    The storm showed no sign of letting up and people tried to flee, but the space was too cramped, the street to narrow and the fearful blocked the way ¡ª unable to move. Unable to disperse the crowd simply huddled together pressed against the shops that lined the streets.

    Oz sidestepped another lightning bolt. He watched Leo with cold eyes.

    This is bad, damn whelp causing troubles for everyone and himself. He might die at this rate¡­ I hope I don¡¯t have to intervene, I don¡¯t have the spare power for this and the test.  Oz sidestepped another bolt that left a charred stone in its wake. He regarded Leo candidly, the boy was only Understudy Grade¡­ this was a high-grade technique, much too high for him to use. Body of Thunder was its name.

    Leo shouted and screamed another surge of electricity ricocheted through him. The brilliant flash of light made the onlookers squint. Electricity spewed from every orifice scorching the earth in a radius of a few feet around him.

    His eyes seemed full of pain.

    Oz recalled what he knew of the technique. Normally, the cultivator would use this before battle, then charge in ¡ª his body wreathed with blue lightning bolts. An ingenious technique, the armour was capable of both offence and defense, augmenting any electricity-based attacks he had.

    Oz shielded his eyes from a surge of light and winced as a louder scream erupted from Leo.

    This is abnormal. Something had gone wrong with the technique. The lightning shouldn¡¯t be yellow, it should be blue. He should no longer have to be channeling the electricity, it should be beneath the skin, only the occasional streak of electricity splashing out ¡ª not this flashy. Clearly¡­ someone is overreaching. Oz sighed to himself and stepped closer to the guards, farther away from Leo, the golden flecks in his eyes glittered lightly.

    Then as quickly as it started the lightning stopped.

    All that remained was a burned husk of a man. Tottering on his feet.

    The glittering in Oz¡¯s eyes stopped.

    The torrent of electricity had shredded Leo¡¯s clothes, only ashes remained, and his body was covered in lacerations and burns. Blood poured from open wounds, his proud eyes confused and unfocused. He dropped to his knees with a thump. Then his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed in a heap.

    The crowd was stunned into silence, the guards didn¡¯t know what to do. No one was sure if he was alive at this point. No one dared to make a move.

    Then a young boy¡¯s cry woke everyone from their stupor, ¡°The Praporshchik is here! The Praporshchik is here!¡±

    The crowd shrank back again as three uniformed men stepped into view. If they were pressing against one another to flee before, now they were nearly trampling one another to get out of the way. Everyone feared McCarthy¡¯s secret police. Oz took an opportunity in the chaos to peer at them from the side of a Civilian Guard, it was his first time seeing the elite soldiers of the Chancellor¡¯s Office.

    They wore dark black leather trench coats over their bodies, obscuring their size, each looking bigger than they actually were. On their chests were pins denoting their ranks, Oz wasn¡¯t quite sure what ranks they were, but they looked like officers. On their heads they wore red military caps with black visors, a golden hammer and sickle was emblazoned overtop of the visor on the red felt. Dull brownish green sleeves peeked out from their coats and trousers of a matching colour paired with black leather boots were on their feet. Two men and a woman. Each exuding an aura of intimidation.

    The gruff looking guard managed to stand on his feet and give a hasty salute.

    The woman nodded in acknowledgement and tilted her head to the charred body of Leo, the two accompanying Praporshchik moved to the body, checking the pulse and pulling pills from pockets.

    She turned to the scruffy looking guard, ¡°Comrade, I am Iulia Nadalkova, Captain of the 1<sup>st</sup> Praporshchik Regiment of the Chancellor¡¯s Office.¡±

    Oz felt surprised at what he heard. A Captain? For little old me?

    Oz leaned forward, trying to discreetly listen in on their conversation, but he gruff looking guard¡¯s mumbled response was a little too quiet for Oz to hear. But apparently not too quiet for the woman, who listened intently to all the mutterings of the obviously very nervous soldier. She had an air of disdain for the nervous man. But in his defense, who wouldn¡¯t be nervous? The gifted were everywhere, but only a few of the gifted managed to climb past the first two Grades. This woman had not only climbed who knows how many grades in strength, but she was also hand-picked by one of the most powerful men in all the world! And who was he? Some scruffy looking nobody who couldn¡¯t even handle a rampaging teenager, albeit a teenager with the power of a mini-Thunder god, but a teenager nonetheless.

    Oz tensed as her eyes flickered to him.

    Then Oz saw something that made him grateful, Leo was sitting up. Covered in medicinal powder from crushed pills, but he was up. It looked like he would make a full recovery. Oz felt his spirits soar; his plan would crumble if somehow Leo had managed to die. Not to mention the toll it would take on his conscience. Then his spirits deflated.

    The Captain of the Praporshchik walked passed the gruffy looking man and was headed straight to him. Her eyes set on him like a rabbit in the sights of a hunter.

    Oz tried to look for an out, but it was too late, she had already stepped in front of him. Her leather boots clacking on the stone as she stood at attention.

    ¡°Name.¡±

    Her voice was sweet, almost melodious. High cheekbones, tan skin, black hair and brown eyes. You didn¡¯t see a lot of people with her complexion in the area, she was probably from the south.

    ¡°Name.¡±

    The tone was no longer so polite, Oz pulled himself together for the interrogation.

    ¡°My name is Oz, you¡¯ll have to pardon me, I¡¯m a little nervous.¡±

    He slid his rattan cane behind his back and managed a half-bow while taking off his bowler cap in a gesture of respect.

    The lines on the woman¡¯s face lightened.

    Who didn¡¯t like to be respected? Oz tried not to smile as her demeanour visibly relaxed.

    She dismissed the guard beside him with a wave of her hand and gave an order to disperse the remaining crowd. Most of the people were more than happy to disperse at this point. But to Oz this was an odd decision to make, to just let all the witnesses leave.

    ¡°Milady, if you ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You will address me as Captain, young man.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well¡­ I¡¯m not in the army¡­ I was just trying to be ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Your politeness is noted, please go on.¡±

    Oz felt his mood sour. So much for being softened up.

    Oz began again, and discovered mid-sentence he had a small problem, ¡°Well¡­ Captain¡­ um¡­ your name please?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you heard it when you were eavesdropping on my conversation with the guard over there.¡±

    Oz felt his back tighten, ¡°There¡¯s no need to be so hostile.¡±

    ¡°I am not hostile¡­ not yet.¡±

    ¡°Well, Captain.¡± He had to try with all his might to keep the disdain out of his voice, ¡°Why are you dispersing the crowd, don¡¯t you need witnesses?¡±

    ¡°I think I have enough information to know what¡¯s going on here,¡± She pulled out a book from her pocket and a quill pen and started scratching a few words down.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    For some reason, this didn¡¯t comfort Oz at all, it made him nervous instead. Bloody hell, something just isn¡¯t right here¡­

    ¡°Do you have a last name Oz?¡±

    Her voice broke through his thoughts, he mumbled out a ¡°No¡±. She looked surprised, so surprised she asked again.

    ¡°Do you have a last name Oz?¡±

    ¡°Not that I am aware of¡­ Captain.¡±

    She nodded and kept scratching on the paper. Then tore it from her notepad and handed it to him.

    Before he could read it, she spoke.

    ¡°Oz, ¡®No last name¡¯, by the authority invested in me by Chancellor Joseph McCarthy, in the name of liberty, peace and justice. I arrest you for assaulting one Leopold Parnassus. The visible evidence being a broken shin from a cane weapon and various burns and wounds from lightning bombs. These attacks were made without provocation by the testimony of ten lawmen. Your sentencing shall be done by a judge. I ask that you come with me quietly, Leopold¡¯s father, Magellan Parnassus will probably want to speak with you prior to the sentencing.¡±

    Oz thought his eyes would pop out based on how wide they went.

    ¡°Wait, wait! Hang on! You¡¯re arresting me? I didn¡¯t assault him, he assaulted me! Then he challenged me to a duel. And what lightning-based attacks?! Those were self-inflicted, hundred of people saw the whole thing! And what do mean by the testimony of ten lawmen¡­¡± Oz¡¯s eyes darted about, trying to lock eyes with anyone of the Civilian Guards, but none of them would look him in the eye. Their eyes averted because of shame. The scruffy looking guard was the only one who dared. His expression was apologetic, his fists were clenched so hard that his knuckles were white. His eyes seemed to say, ¡°I tried my best, and I¡¯m pissed.¡±

    The woman spoke again. Her tone cold as a result of his disagreement.

    ¡°Oz, perjury is an additional crime, it will make your sentencing more severe.¡±

    ¡°Perjury? Are you out of your fricking mind! Perjury is lying under oath, not telling the truth! Not to mention that what you¡¯re doing is conspiracy, if the Chancellor ever ¡ª¡±

    Oz saw stars.

    She had hit him, hard. This was his second time today being punched in the jaw. But this time, the blood was real. He felt a tooth wiggle loose. It was a miracle he managed to stay on his feet. A miracle that clearly surprised the Captain. Her face wrinkled in displeasure. But she refrained from striking him again.

    Professional to the last.

    Black spots dotted Oz¡¯s vision, he shouted at her, ¡°There are hundreds of people who saw what happened here today! You think you can lock me up!¡±

    She struck him again.

    This one was more than he could handle, Oz dropped, his head smacking into the road. A bloody gash emerging. He rolled over, groaning in pain and yelped as boot struck him in the stomach.

    The woman¡¯s voice was harsh, ¡°Get up maggot!¡±

    Oz almost cursed at her, but the scruffy looking guard jumped between him and her, before he could earn himself more violence. His pot-belly jiggling as he spread his arms out wide, interposing himself between Oz and his accuser.

    ¡°Captain Nadalkova, the boy is a Civilian, he¡¯s not gifted¡­ please go easy on him.¡±

    The scruffy looking guard tensed as the Captain¡¯s hand rested on his shoulder. She was tall for a woman, standing almost half a head above the stout man.

    Her voice low and threatening, ¡°Are you giving me an order?¡±

    The guard stuttered, flustered at the accusation, ¡°I would never dream of such¡­ of such a¡­ thing¡­ I ¡ª¡±

    He stopped mid-sentence as her hand clenched his shoulder.

    With every word she spoke the guard¡¯s face paled, ¡°Countermanding a superior officer is insubordination. The penalty is death.¡±

    ¡°I would never counter anything¡ª¡±

    His mouth slammed shut as the sound of bone and flesh separating filled the street. The whites of his eyes showed as the woman¡¯s hand punctured into his skin and tore through muscle. He held in a scream.

    She smiled sadistically and clamped harder.

    ¡°Since you like the boy so much, why don¡¯t you look like him too?¡±

    Her face was sinister, but her tone wasn¡¯t sadistic or dark. There was no emotion in it, it was like she was recounting the score of the latest football match or the price of tea in the street market. But not everyone could be so candid about such things. The other Civilian Guards turned away, trying not to vomit. The sound of ripping flesh reverberated in the street. It was almost like the sound of parchment tearing, intermingled with the crunch of bones. But the guard didn¡¯t cry out. He gritted his teeth as the Captain¡¯s fingers ripped through his tendons and popped his arm out of his socket with a sickening sound. With one smooth motion she ripped off his arm and threw it onto the ground beside him.

    The man¡¯s face was trained of blood, his breathing haggard. Blood poured from his open wound and he shifted unsteadily on his feet as if he would faint.

    She pulled out a paper with a drawing of a flame on it. But seeing how well the guard held in the pain she put it away. She looked at his arm, ¡°Pick it up, that¡¯s an order.¡±

    The guard dropped to his knees. His breathing heavy as a steady drip drip filled everyone¡¯s ears. The barbarism was appalling, a couple guards turned and lost the contents of their lunch. Leopold looked like he was about to black out again. But the three Praporshchik were as calm as ever. They were used to this kind of thing, violence was necessary for order. And as far as they were concerned justice was a matter of perspective.

    The gruff looking Captain managed to grab his arm and held the bleeding stump close by, he inclined his head differentially, ¡°Thank you for sparing my life.¡±

    The woman nodded magnanimously, as if she should be praised for restraining herself so well. Oz felt sick. He of all people knew how hard it was to live with only one arm in a world like this. He had to improvise and change stances in his cane fighting book to accommodate the lack of arm. Thankfully only a handful of moves required two hands. But it was the little things that took getting used too. It was easier to fall off balance and the worst was phantom arm. Even now he would sometimes reach for something with an arm that wasn¡¯t there. He felt his gut clench. The man protected him because he thought Oz was just a powerless civilian like him, not one of the gifted.

    The Captain however was not giving Oz time to regret, she called out again, ¡°Oz, surrender yourself into my custody, if you do not I will be forced to kill you.¡±

    Oz snorted, he wasn¡¯t feeling particularly respectful of this woman, ¡°What¡¯s the difference between killing me now or later? You¡¯re going to kill me anyway. Just kill me now.¡±

    She narrowed her eyes in response, ¡°Oz, I will have to ask you one more time to please surrender yourself. You will receive a fair trial, on account of your age you will receive a lighter sentence.¡±

    He spat derisively, ¡°What¡¯s the name of a trial where the outcome is already decided? I¡¯ll tell you what it is. Piss. Just a bunch of piss. You can keep your damn kangaroo court.¡±

    The guards looked fearful. The Praporshchik looked malevolent. Leopold looked happy.

    The Captain pulled back her hand, as if about to sever Oz¡¯s head from his neck with one blow.

    Then Oz¡¯s brown eyes flashed radiant gold. He spoke, his voice a low croon, like the sound of a tree groaning in the wind.

    ¡°Bratus.¡±

    The Praporshchik shouted. The woman tried to change her motion, but it was too late ¡ª they were caught off guard. The ground beneath the three of them quaked, knocking them off their feet. Before they could collect themselves to respond three trees shot up from the ground wrapping around them like vines, growing and solidifying. Shock flooded their faces as they sputtered, trying to remember their own words of power.

    One of them shouted, ¡°I thought he wasn¡¯t gifted!¡±

    A fourth tree sprouted, its vineish top bursting from below the ground almost ten feet in front of Oz. The sapling snaked below Oz¡¯s feet, forming a flat board-like surface. The base of the tree kept shooting up while its top was firmly beneath Oz¡¯s feet. Green energy danced up Oz¡¯s arm and coalesced in his palm. He flung it at his feet, roots sprung from the ground binding the wooden paddle to the ground as its base continued to grow. The trunk of the tree bent backwards, taunt and in the shape of a sling.

    Mere seconds had passed.

    But it was enough for the far more powerful and more experienced Cultivators to finally show their true colours. The two beside Leopold were first, one charred the branches with fire the other simply tore them from his body ¡ª his muscles expanding to twice their size with a lionlike roar. Last was the woman, who sliced through the wood like it was paper, her skin a metallic tint. But before they could cast a spell or advance on Oz, the roots binding him to the ground snapped and he was flung into the distance, high above them and towards the forest.

    As Oz sailed out of reach, catapulted into the air by his strange technique, the scruffy looking guard who was short an arm felt like cursing his luck. He had helped a Cultivator, someone who was more than capable of taking care of himself and lost his arm in the process. Just as he was about to curse the lad out, a whisper sounded in his ear.

    It was the boy. He almost dropped his arm in shock.

    ¡°Friend, I am grateful for you help, in your pocket is a pill. Go to Ebenezer Black¡¯s shop on 3<sup>rd</sup> Street, tell him I sent you. Your arm will be as good as new if you hurry. In your other pocket are ten gold ducats. Thank you kindly, be safe.¡±

    The man wept. His fellow guards started carrying him off as he shouted, ¡°Take me to the doctor on 3<sup>rd</sup> street! On 3<sup>rd</sup> street!

    The Praporshchik raged. But there was nothing they could do. The two men went beside the Captain, their expressions nervous. She stared off in the distance, oblivious to everything around her. The remaining Civilian Guards scampered away quietly, making themselves scarce, grateful to be ignored. The Captain had her back to her fellows, her eyes tracking Oz¡¯s progress in the sky before he vanished out of sight, dipping below the trees.

    The slightly taller guard ventured to speak, ¡°He caught us off guard.¡±

    The other Praporshchik smirked, ¡°Off guard¡­ good one.¡±

    The Captain whirled on them, her eyes were ablaze with fury as she seethed, ¡°Find him! We¡¯ve been had¡±

    ****

    Oz sailed through the air for only about half a minute, but it felt like an eternity. He was a couple hundred feet in the air and flying fast, it was exhilarating and normally it would be enjoyable. But whole time he felt like vomiting and a trickle of blood followed behind him in the air. He had used too much power. He was heavily injured, not mortally, by the Green Hills it wasn¡¯t a mortal wound. But it was severe. He popped a healing pill in his mouth and gritted his teeth, summoning a wisp of green energy from his bosom that snaked to his arm. The treetops in the forest grew larger and larger as he barrelled towards them at breakneck speed. He tucked himself into a small ball, beads of sweat poured down his face as the green energy gather to his palm, it took all his concentration to accomplish this feat. There was no time to reflect on his encounter with the Praporshchik and their conspiracy against him, frankly, he wasn¡¯t out of the weeds just yet.

    He braced himself for impact. And counted down in his mind.

    3

    2

    1

    Just as his body was about to impact a bristling pine he touched the top of the tree and spoke a word of power.

    ¡°Defloresce.¡±

    The tree groaned as the green energy instantly infect it a cancerous rot that rampaged through the branches. All the green tender shoots withered, and the leaves turned a foul brown. The wood was now soft and brittle.

    Oz smashed into the decayed wood.

    The tree exploded in a puff of dark brown sawdust, the wood looking so old and rotten that it was hardly recognizable. As Oz plummeted to the ground, he used the last bit of the green energy to move the powdered wood in front of him, to provide some sort of cushioning for his fall.

    He closed his eyes and smashed into the forest floor with a thud. Everything went black.

    *****

    ¡°We can¡¯t find him,¡± A man in a green uniform and a steel breastplate stood nervously before a dark cherrywood desk. Piles of papers stacked so high you could barely see who was sitting down. The man shifted his feet nervously and gently tapped the sword hanging from his waist, as if trying to reassure himself that he could survive this moment.

    The scratch of a quill pen and another paper joined the top of the precariously high piles. Dark brown eyes peered at the green uniformed man making him sweat. Wavy black hair and tan skin framed a face with high cheekbones. It was Captain Iulia Nadalkova, absent her hat with the hammer and sickle logo.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± The guard squeaked out and bowed his head low, beads of sweat pooling at the floor beneath him.

    Her voice was calm and assured, ¡°Where is the Sergeant I spoke with earlier? He at least had the decency to look me in the eye.¡±

    The man¡¯s face went pale, ¡°He¡¯s seeing a doctor¡­ on account of¡­¡± The man gently touched his shoulder, unable to say the words.

    ¡°Right, I forgot about that.¡± Came the terse response. She sighed, ¡°I suppose you will have to do¡­ he¡¯s in the forest. Towards the North-East, find him.¡±

    ¡°Captain¡­ if I ¡ª¡±

    The man stopped mid-sentence, unable to complete the thought when he met her cold eyes.

    She prompted him, irritation creeping into her voice, ¡°Yes? Continue.¡±

    He made a strange choking sound before continuing, ¡°There is unrest in the city.¡± He gasped dramatically for air. ¡°Rumors have spread that the Praporshchik framed an innocent man¡­ more guards than usual are necessary to keep the public peace.¡±

    And inkwell flew onto the gasping man¡¯s head eliciting another gasp.

    ¡°Next time you should be more careful about repeating unsavory rumors in my presence,¡± came the snappy reply.

    The two other Praporshchik sniggered in the corner as the guardsman almost tumbled over with fright, desperately trying to wipe off the ink with a handkerchief. The guard righted himself, and after wiping sweat from his face managed to eek out, ¡°The search force only consists of ten people, we ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll never find him like that!¡± Her thundering voice made the guardsman jump with fright. ¡°Where¡¯s the Auditor? The Chancellor¡¯s Office promised to send us the highest ranked Auditor available,¡± heat entered her voice, surprising her fellows and almost making the guard pass out with fear. Her eyes fell on the snivelling guardsmen, ¡°Get out, you witless worm!¡±

    ¡°Now now¡­ there¡¯s no need to be so harsh.¡±

    The voice floated into the room. The guard heaved a sigh of relief as he tried to stand up, his knees wobbly. The Captain¡¯s face went sour. Who dared to rebuked her in this place? The anger beneath the surface was far greater than what she showed. But she couldn¡¯t show her emotions without knowing who it was, she was an intelligent woman. She knew who needed to be obeyed and who could be trampled on, that¡¯s why Magellan Parnassus ¡ª Leopold¡¯s father ¡ª had taken great pains to send her to deal with this incident. But before she saw the man she smelled him.

    The heavy odor of tobacco filled the office, it was a light cherry scent. The sound of heavy leather boots on wood reverberated in the room with an unnatural depth. Her eyebrows went up and so did those of her companions. The two of them instinctively tensed up. One of the marks of breaking free of the mortal coil was to have a presence. Powerful Wizards and Cultivators, when they weren¡¯t hiding their powers, could be felt at a distance ¡ª as if they were larger than life, taking up more space than their human body would allow.

    Everyone in the room swallowed nervously as the footsteps drew closer and closer.

    They didn¡¯t have to wait long, but the suspense was killing them, A figure rounded the corner and turned into the office.

    He was of average height, wrinkled and old, his black skin saggy and loose. The light from the window in the office reflected off his bald head. His bare chest was exposed, showing a long resume of war and death. The scars were immense. There was a particularly noticeable scar on his left wrist, as if it had been amputated and reattached. His eyes were brown and dark, deep like water in the nighttime. He pulled a worn black leather jacket tight over his boney frame. On his legs were dark blue denim jeans and high top black leather boots. The sound of him puffing contentedly seemed to soothe everyone in the room, he had a pipe in his mouth and a heavy cloud of smoke hung all around him.

    It was Ed.

    Ed looked at the secular guard, who was so weak compared to the gifted. He felt pity for the man, it reminded him of his former self. He focussed his mind on the man and straightened his back with a psychic push. The man looked at Ed in shock. Ed placed a hand on his shoulders, ¡°Buck up. Now get out.¡±

    ¡°Thank-you sir!¡± The words were spoken almost as an afterthought because the man was already out the door before he spoke ¡ª he was clearly terrified at the prospect of remaining in the room with the Cultivators.

    The woman at the desk stood up, her eyes fixed on Ed.

    ¡°I see you have a soft spot for the mortals.¡± Her normally cold tone was insipid.

    Ed payed it no mind and looked around for a chair.

    ¡°We can talk,¡± he said, ¡°Once I¡¯ve sat down.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, there¡¯s only one chair in the office.¡± As she moved to sit down Captain Nadalkova¡¯s eyes went wide in fear. She couldn¡¯t move, she tried to cry out to alert her comrades, but she couldn¡¯t even open her mouth. It was like she was drowning, completely submerged underwater.

    The sound of something being picked up frightened her but being unable to react frustrated her. Her expression was livid.

    Ed had floated her chair from behind the desk and placed it behind him gently and sat down. Then he released her.

    She gasped for air, drooping low. Her comrades tried to help her ¡ª startled at the sudden outburst and clearly unaware of what had transpired ¡ª but she shook them off. Her eyes were bursting with anger, but two things her. One, this man¡¯s rank was probably far above hers. Two, he was probably Commander Grade. She was Major Grade and her assistants were only Lieutenant Grade ¡ª and could render her powerless with just a casual exertion of power. And the man was a Psyker. Psykers were difficult to deal with, they were the most secretive of all the Cultivators, there was even talk that they had a secret method of teleportation.

    Ed sucked a deep breath from his pipe and exhaled a massive amount of smoke while sitting contentedly in his seat. The officers stood in front of him awkwardly. He studied the three soldiers in front of him. They were part of McCarthy¡¯s not-so-secret police. These three were part of the bottom category, the Praporshchik. And based on the desk and the office, she was probably the Captain of a Regiment, he glanced at a pin on her desk. First regiment¡­ The worst regiment. The dregs of the dregs. Full of corruption and bribery. Many wealthy nobles and Department Heads had bought out regiments of the Praporshchik, the 1<sup>st</sup> Regiment fell into corruption almost a year after it was made. So, it was no surprise that from the get go, something smelled off. Time to investigate¡­

    Ed took another breath of tobacco smoke and wafted some of the cloud into the eyes of the three in front of him, just to irritate them. The woman looked like she was about to protest, Ed raised a hand cutting her off.

    ¡°My name is Edmund DeSantes, Chief Auditor.¡±

    One of the men let out a gasp, ¡°McCarthy¡¯s Right Hand?¡±

    Ed grinned, as if bashful, ¡°Well¡­ I think technically the Council of Sagery is McCarthy¡¯s Right Hand, I¡¯m just a man in the shadows.¡±

    The three of them lost a hue of colour in their faces. Maybe they shouldn¡¯t have asked for the highest-ranking Auditor available.

    Ed pressed his advantage, ¡°You are the Praporshchik?¡± Ed pointed the stem of his pipe to the woman.

    She nodded.

    Ed¡¯s eyes turned to the two men flanking her, ¡°And these are your Soldats?¡±

    Her mouth tightened, ¡°No.¡±

    Ed crooked an eyebrow, ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°They are my Kaprals,¡± she supplied, her finger twitched, revealing the nervousness she felt inside.

    But Ed didn¡¯t need a twitching finger to know something was wrong, ¡°So let me get this straight¡­¡± He tapped his pipe casually, letting ash spill on the floor. ¡°Two teenagers got into a brawl in the city¡­ one of them at least Major Grade?¡±

    ¡°Understudy Grade.¡± Her face tightened even more.

    ¡°Oh¡­ how interesting¡­ what an interesting affair. We have two young teenagers, both boys I presume?¡± He barely paused to see their nod, ¡°I assumed as much, women tend to be much more mild-mannered at that age¡­ they take out their raging hormones in other ways. Something I¡¯m sure you know all about, Praporshchik.¡±

    The Captain nodded, fear more than anger showing in her eyes. She felt cornered, something wasn¡¯t right. Why was the Auditor examining them? Leopold¡¯s father had given her assurances!

    ¡°Now¡­ when two teenagers fight ¡ª of the Understudy Grade ¡ª I should think that a couple of your Soldats, just the common foot soldier, would be more than enough to deal with this matter. Not to mention the fact that you were under active orders to remain here at headquarters in the event of an emergency. But for some reason, you, the Non-Commissioned Officer ¡ª without receiving any marching orders ¡ª took it upon yourself to personally deal with this matter and to take two other officers with you. This looks like dereliction of duty and conspiracy to commit insubordination.¡±

    ¡°Sir if I may ¡ª¡± Choking sounds filled the room as the Captain was lifted off her feet, her face turning red as she tried to breathe. Her officers jumped to help her, but one look of warning from Ed sent them back, cowering in fear.

    ¡°Do you dare interrupt me?¡±

    She shook her head frantically.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re a tough one¡­¡± Ed managed see a look of defiance in her eyes, he switched targets, like a snake savouring his prey. ¡°You¡­ yes you.¡±

    The slightly taller guard pointed at himself nervously.

    Ed continued, ¡°You look nervous, do you respect your superior officer? Has Captain Nadalkova treated you well?¡±

    He nodded wildly.

    Ed smiled patronizingly, letting smoke drift around his face, ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell me who sent the order for you guys to break up the fight? I don¡¯t think you would do something that would get you sent to the gulags unless¡­¡± He wagged his pipe at them. ¡°Unless someone promised to protect you.¡±

    He looked to his fellow officer. The other man shook his head, miming to him to not say anything.

    Ed smiled, and spoke out loud, ¡°To Chancellor Joseph McCarthy.¡±

    The air seemed to move in response to Ed¡¯s words. The officers were scared stiff.

    Ed continued, ¡°One officer,¡± Ed paused to stare at the man who had just shaken his head. The man screamed as Ed¡¯s Psychosis tore through his brain. He collapsed on the floor in a heap. ¡°Pardon me, I had to figure out his name. Peter Niminchky, Kapral of the 1<sup>st</sup> Regiment, just told an officer to not answer a direct question from an Auditor. What is the penalty?¡±

    McCarthy¡¯s voice rumbled in the room, its tone hoarse and breathy, almost like an artificial reconstruction, ¡°Death.¡±

    Ed formed an invisible hammer out of psychosis and smashed it into the unconscious man¡¯s head. The unconscious man managed to let out a guttural scream as the ethereal weapon passed through his body. The only thing his friends saw was a fit of convulsions and the blood that leaked from his ears.

    The two remaining officers looked around in fear, their breathing was shallow and frantic. That¡¯s all it took.

    He was dead.

    Just like that.

    Ed was nonplussed at their behaviour, but then a look of enlightenment crossed his face, ¡°Oh, this must have been your first time hearing the Chancellor¡¯s voice through the air. It¡¯s a marvelous thing, comforting isn¡¯t it? He¡¯s like a big brother, he hears everything.¡± A hint of sarcasm tinged Ed¡¯s voice, but it was barely noticeable. Ed noticed the woman¡¯s tanned face had turned blue. ¡°Terribly sorry, I forgot I was holding you.¡±

    He released his psychic grip from her neck and she tumbled to the floor, gasping for air. Her companion rushed to help her up, at this point she was too weak and altogether unwilling to shake him off.

    ¡°Now, where was I¡­ Oh yes.¡± Without warning the room shook with a flood of psychosis making the two remaining officers nauseous. The woman hurled the contents of her lunch, a tuna fish sandwich and some juice, onto the floor in a pile. Ed grabbed her again with his mind, pulling her up by the hair and dangling her above the desk. She held back screams of pain.

    The other officer shrieked, ¡°Sir, please let her go! We¡¯ve done nothing wrong, we simply did what we were supposed to do! The guardsmen will testify for us.¡±

    Ed poked his teeth with the stem of his pipe, ¡°It¡¯s funny you should mention the guardsmen, I had a chat with one earlier. Scruffy looking fellow, said a trio of Praporshchik arrested an innocent boy ¡ª who fairly won a duel ¡ª and framed him for assault.¡± The colour in the duo¡¯s face drained completely. Ed was concerned, he continued, his voice even and calm. ¡°You know, normally, if you want to frame someone with false testimony. You try to guarantee the loyalty of the people you use. Typically ripping off someone¡¯s arm does little to guarantee their loyalty. Especially when someone more powerful offers them protection for telling the truth.¡±

    ¡°We ¡ª We ¡ª¡±

    Ed cut off the officer, ¡°You see¡­ the 1<sup>st</sup> Regiment has long been due for a purge. But, I don¡¯t have enough evidence yet to kill everyone in the regiment, but I¡¯m sure everyone of you is dirty. The only question is how deep does the purge need to go? How many regiments and is it just the Praporshchik. I hope it didn¡¯t reach all the way to the Rotmister¡­ though¡­ that would be¡­ exciting.¡± Ed¡¯s eyes twinkled with wild abandon. Then he sobered, as if realizing an unpleasant truth about himself. How much he resembled someone he didn¡¯t like.

    Ed collected himself and looked at the two officers, ¡°Let me do it like this, what¡¯s your name lad?¡±

    The officer stammered, ¡°Mik¡ª Mik ¡ª Mikhael Dimitry.¡±

    Ed puffed a cloud of smoke out, his tone was genial. ¡°Mikhael Dimitry? That¡¯s a good name, a nice name. You should be proud of yourself son, you don¡¯t look to be over forty and you¡¯re already Lieutenant Grade.¡±

    ¡°My wife is very happy for me¡­¡± he managed to get out, a bit of relaxation in his tone. He seemed to think the threat of death had passed.

    Ed winced at the remark, remembering his own wife. But his heart had turned hard a long time ago. ¡°You are Kapral rank?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir¡­¡± Mikhael managed to stand up, his eyes somehow avoiding his comrade dangling painfully by her hair.

    Ed¡¯s voice was almost fatherly, but his words were harsh, ¡°I will see to it that the record reads you died honorably and not as a traitor, that way your widow will be cared for.¡± Ed glanced at the already dead officer, ¡°Though I can¡¯t say the same for your friend.¡±

    Mikhael¡¯s face flashed with different expressions. Fear. Anger. Hurt. But then, peace. A tear streaked down his eye and he took off his hat and held it to his chest. ¡°It is less than my sins deserve.¡±

    Ed nodded and stood up, ruffling his jacket. ¡°Kneel.¡±

    Mikhael knelt down, his hands shook as he clasped them to his chest. As if holding his heart. His voice was shaky, ¡°God of the Green Hills, receive me.¡±

    Ed¡¯s gruff voice rang out, ¡°It will be painless¡­¡± Ed stepped forward and put his hand on the man¡¯s head and flooded his brain with sweet psychosis. His eyes fluttered shut as they closed in peaceful sleep for the last time. A few seconds later, he was dead.

    Ed floated his body beside the other man¡¯s and walked over, as if to inspect his handiwork. His back to the woman suspended by her hair.

    The woman¡¯s eyes were frantic. She was next. Oh light untold, she was next! She tried to secretly channel her energy into her hands in preparation for a final assault. She would cut off her hair, then attack with ¡ª

    But Ed¡¯s voice cut off all hope. He spoke without looking at the woman, ¡°I am going to give you two options, well¡­ technically there are three. Either you keep gathering your energy, like you are, and I will kill you in the most painful way conceivable.¡±

    She immediately relaxed, letting the energy disperse. Curiosity was now on her face.

    ¡°The other is that you willingly submit yourself to death and I will kill you painlessly as I did to this man.¡±

    She clenched her knuckles quietly in response, cursing herself for not holding onto the energy.

    But Ed¡¯s eyes were calculating as he thought of her mental fortitude, grit and determination. He grinned wickedly as he propositioned her, ¡°Or, instead of giving me your death, you give me your life.¡±

 Chapter 28: A Trip Down Memory Lane

    ¡°I hate my life¡­¡± Jillian mumbled to herself as she picked her way along the forest path. Her dark red hair was done up in a bun, her skin was still white and smooth ¡ª with freckles around her nose. Her strawberry shaped head tilted as she looked around warily, green eyes alert. Her hand went reassuringly to the gun holster on her pants. She was wearing dark blue riding pants, brown jack boots, a white shirt and a blue jacket. James hated her outfit, said it didn¡¯t fit with the times. But the few times she¡¯d been to town with him she saw a bald black man with denim and a black leather jacket! James was such a woman sometimes, thank goodness he had caved, otherwise it would have made living here unbearable.

    She snorted to herself, ¡°Living here¡­¡±

    It had been years, almost seventeen years since she landed on this planet. But sometimes it felt like she¡¯d come here yesterday. She could still see him. That charred hole in his head. Eyes wide open in surprise. His body falling down.

    Jack¡­ I miss you Jack.

    She sniffled to herself but managed to hold back some tears.

    ¡°You can do it! You can do it! Dammit¡­¡±

    Time heals all, but sometimes, it takes more time than we¡¯d hope. Jillian¡¯s eyes darted along the edges of the path, sometimes glancing into the brush a little way¡¯s away. She was looking for ingredients. James had told her to always be careful in the forest, there was a large number of rare ingredients hidden in the woods, but there was a reason that the Chancellor didn¡¯t send his people to harvest from the forest. The forest had a name: The Endless Wood. Hardly an original name, but an apt one. The forest was enormous and there were more than a few strange things about it, some Wizards (many years ago) had sent an exploration team years ago to find ingredients in the depths of the forest. They never came back. They sent another team, those too never came back. Eventually, word spread about The Endless Wood that gobbled men whole. Even James always told her to be careful in the forest, said there was something off about it.

    James¡­ my life revolves around glasses boy.

    Johann Eisenach (or James) was something of a forest guardian, minus the pointy ears of your typical woodland elf. Although he was very slender. He did live a really long time¡­

    Prick me¡­ James is an elf¡­ I never thought of that.

    Jillian furrowed her brows as she spotted a glowing mushroom. She¡¯d never seen this one before, James probably knew what it was. She put the mushroom in a bag strapped to her waist and sighed as she longed for a storage pocket. Despite all the vile concoctions and strange rituals she had undergone (that last one with the oil lamp was particularly bizarre) she was still unable to cultivate. For some odd reason James forbid her from learning about magic and insisted that she focus on cultivation, it¡¯s not like she had much of a choice. But maybe this weird mushroom would get him to talk.

    Talk. Since the initial excitement of meeting an alien had worn off, James had reverted to the demeanour of a prim and proper aristocrat. James didn¡¯t like to talk at all, especially about how he was exiled to the forest. But a few names always came up whenever she managed to coax something out of him: Da Shan, Katherine, May, Michael and McCarthy. She hadn¡¯t seen Da Shan in almost two decades, his loveable and large exterior, those dull brown eyes.

    She blushed and put those thoughts aside as she spied a strange glowing plant with five leaves growing off one another. She shoved it in her satchel, praying it wasn¡¯t toxic to the touch.

    If James was a forest guardian she was his little helper. She was starting to get sick of her job. What he ate, she ate. Where he went, she went. Where he sat, she sat. She was developing an intense hatred towards glasses. Whenever he shoved them up on his nose with his one finger, all dainty-like, it pissed her off so much. Sometimes she fantasized about smashing his glasses¡­ or eating them.

    Frick¡­ I¡¯m getting a weird kind of cabin fever¡­ I am sick of all these damn trees! I want out! I want out! She screamed in her mind, her face flushed with irritation. Hold on Jill¡­ just hold on¡­ deep breaths. There you go girl, in and out. In and out. Okay¡­ it¡¯s almost over¡­ almost.

    But she couldn¡¯t calm herself down.

    She started hyperventilating, she felt the edges of her vision go dark as pain clutched her heart. A panic attack? It was a panic attack!

    Beep!

    Jillian nearly jumped out of her skin as her implants activated.

    You are under distress, please relax. A robotic voice intoned in her mind.

    Then she felt a sweet flood of narcotic induced relief. She breathed deeply, appreciating the marvels of modern medicine. She looked at her hand as a pulse of light flashed across her palm. They were both a blessing and a curse. One the once hand the readily available flow of endorphins and the vast amount of information stored let her pass the time peacefully ¡ª whenever she wasn¡¯t the subject of one of James¡¯ experiments. But it was on account of her cybernetic and genetic enhancements that she couldn¡¯t leave the damn forest. James told her that advanced Cultivators and Wizards would immediately realize something was off about her and the more nefarious ones (which apparently were everywhere!) would kidnap her and dissect her. Wizards wanted her for their so-called scientific experiments and Witches wanted her for their so-called sacrificial rituals. So, she had been hidden away for seventeen long years, drinking vials of ¡°who knows what¡± to do ¡°something or other¡± ¡ª as James so helpfully put it. Though he couldn¡¯t figure out how to make her cultivate, somehow, he had figured out how to hide her insides from those who would have designs on her ladylike figure. According to him, it would be safe for her to travel in a month or so ¡ª maybe less ¡ª and since she had learned not just one, but three local languages, all would be well. It was a good thing she also had that on the go, it took some doing to get James on board¡­ but soon¡­ soon they¡¯d be able to put some plans in motion.

    Snap!

    Jillian ripped her pistol from the holster and pointed it towards the sound.

    She inhaled sharply.

    There¡¯s nothing there¡­ Only trees and ¡ª

    Loud sounds burst through the stillness of the forest.

    Crash! BOOM! Then moments later a soft thud, like the sound of something soft hit the ground.

    She dropped low and shimmied towards a tree, keeping her back to the trunk and dropping to one knee.

    ¡°What was that sound¡­¡± she wondered aloud.

    It sounded like a tree exploded. This whole world was abnormal! Cultivators, Wizards, Witches, Psykers and the clothes! The billowy shirts and riding pants and now even the trees weren¡¯t safe!

    Jillian¡¯s eyes panned around the wood, carefully.

    James¡¯ words about the weirdness of the forest became more real everyday. More than once in these seventeen years she had to fend off a bear, some sort of large cat ¡ª and one time a goat with six horns. The goat was particularly fierce. It had almost killed her before James showed up and slaughtered it ¡ª and it was a slaughter. Then he made her eat the goat¡¯s heart¡­ raw. Then made this really weird look when nothing happened, as if something was supposed to happen, another failed experiment.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s not another goat.

    She turned on her ocular implant, a green light flickering across her pupils. She waited for her implants to power-up. Her hand skirted along the pistol, pressing a few buttons. She changed the mode. The gun hissed and whirred, metal folding out and steam escaping as the barrel almost doubled in length.

    Six-shot mode¡­ She grinned to herself. She hated getting ambushed but being the ambusher¡­ it was one of the reasons she had stayed single. She wanted to pursue the guy, catch him unawares. Pounce on him when he least expected it! That¡¯s why Jack¡­

    Jack

    That¡¯s why she could never feel anything for Jack. He was like a puppy dog that followed her around¡­ now he was dead.

    She put her old friend from her mind and with a click and a beep her implants were raring and ready to go. She slapped her pistol, making sure it was ready.

    ¡°Switch to infrared.¡±

    Jillian almost fell over as she saw glowing dots scattered across her field of vision. She zoomed in and noticed that each dot was a plant. The plants! Dammit, who knew that those special plants I needed would glow in infrared. So many wasted years¡­

    She filed away the locations of some of the more¡­ luminescent¡­ pieces of plant matter and moved slowly from tree to tree in the direction of the explosion. She walked slowly and steadily, taking care to avoid dead branches and dry leaves. She tried to recall the sounds she had heard as she kept her eyes peeled for any movement. There was the crashing and the exploding, but there was also that snap. The snap was close, the other sounds distant. Something else was here. She thought about going to ask James for help, but the thought of seeing his bespectacled face made her feel nauseous.

    I fricking hate ¡ª

    Then she saw something.

    A blurry shape bumbled across her line of sight, moving from tree to tree dozens of feet behind her. She tucked herself behind a tree and filed through the infrared scans and pulled up the blurry image.

    Magnify. She thought.

    The picture sharpened, but not enough.

    Go 3-d, rotate. She spun the image of the blurry shape in her mind.

    She scrunched her eyebrows. It looks like a¡­ person?

    Strange. She should have seen something like a person. She peeked out from behind the tree and focused on the last spot she saw that thing.

    Then she heard the rustle of dry leaves.

    Now! It¡¯s moving between trees.

    She followed the blob with her infrared vision as it moved.

    Infrared off.

    She tried to remain quiet but she couldn¡¯t prevent a small gasp from escaping her throat.

    There was nobody there.

    She rotated between infrared and normal vision a couple times before the figure hid behind a tree again ¡ª just to make sure. She cursed her luck.

    Bloody magic powers and stupid secret techniques and pricking ineffable ancient wisdom.

    ¡°Infrared on!¡± It was now a snarl, not a whisper. Based on the movement of the figure, he was tailing her. No mercy.

    She set the blurry shape in her sights.

    It stopped moving as if confused by her actions, it looked wary, as if uncertain that she could see it. It started edging a bit more to the side.

    Jillian smirked to herself and pointed the pistol away from the shape.

    The shape relaxed. Then started moving to a different tree.

    Gotcha.

    Jillian whirled around, twisting her body at an impossible angle and pulled the trigger as she tumbled to the ground.

    Bang!

    The recoil from the shot threw her back before she hit the ground, but she was able to see the head of the blurry shape explode in a mass of liquid before her own head smacked the forest floor.

    Breathing deeply Jillian rolled over. Stood up. And brushed off dirt from her clothes, cleanliness was of the utmost importance to a Space Marine. Old habits die hard. She walked over to the corpse of her pursuer and switched off her infrared vision.

    She felt her skin crawl at the sight. It wasn¡¯t the gore or something like that fact that she had killed someone. It was the black robe. The white shirt. The black pants. The neat boots. And the smell¡­ she could never forget the smell. The scent of burning flesh. It clung to the dead man like a cloud. One word filled her mind.

    Witches.

    Her hands started shaking. Her white cheeks flushed red. Her heart clenched up. She started panicking, she knew this sensation. She remembered it well. Fear.

    You are under distress, please relax. The robotic voice sounded again.

    She relaxed, the tension leaving her shoulders.

    What if there are ¡ª

    The sound of feet on grass. The patter of a man running.

    She spun around as fast as she could just in time to see a sword heading straight for her head. She twisted her body and spun her pistol on her fingers, smashing the butt of the gun into the sword.

    She felt regret.

    She forgot how powerful these people were, even her¡­ huh?

    Jillian was presently surprised as her attacker¡¯s arm was flung back, both their eyes widened in surprise, as if neither of them had expected her parry to work.

    Though she was surprised she was still a Space Marine. In one fluid motion she spun her pistol around and blasted a hole in the Witch¡¯s chest, the man was flung back, his black robe billowing as he dropped to the ground. Jillian heaved deep breaths and froze.

    She had survived? She could kill someone with superpowers? She looked down at her hand and flexed it as another light pulsed across the back of her hand. Her hands never glowed with light before, but to be honest she had never thought about what that meant. Maybe all of James¡¯ concoctions were finally paying off.

    Just as she was about to walk off she noticed a storage bag tied to the waist of the Witch. She looked at the other Witch and noticed there was one there too.

    She rubbed her hands together and smirked to herself.

    *****

    Oz faded in and out of consciousness, unable to rouse himself. He knew he was in a forest somewhere. He knew he was alive. He knew he wouldn¡¯t last much longer. He had done his best to mitigate the damage from the fall, but it was far from enough.

    He tried to turn over and almost screamed.

    He propped his head up, he only had enough strength to hold it up for a moment. But it was enough. His face went pale at the sight of his bloodied and mangled legs. They were all twisted and bent out of shape, his shin bones jutting out of his flesh.

    He gulped.

    Then coughed.

    Then barely suppressed a moan of pain.

    Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. His ribs must be broken, and he probably had internal bleeding. He felt hot and sticky, leaves and dirt mingled with blood as he tried his best to remain still. He tried to move his hand to the storage pocket in his jacket. But gave up, his arm wasn¡¯t responding. It wasn¡¯t moving at all.

    He looked within himself, to see how much Wood Essence he had left, and almost cried. He was bone dry. He didn¡¯t panic though, for some reason he felt like he had been through worse.

    He felt the cube in his mind pop open, just a little.

    An image flashed in his mind of seeing a headless body wearing a patchwork kimono.

    What was that? A memory. A ¡ª

    He vomited. He felt his stomach empty as puke streamed down his chin and onto his clothes. Then gasped trying to hold himself together as he was assaulted by waves of pain that nearly shattered his mind.

    Another image assailed him, this time it was Ed. His father.

    He had just opened a door, he felt some relief in his chest, as if Ed was his only hope. But Ed¡¯s expression was grim and pained. In the memory he felt surprise and hurt as the old bald Psycher unleashed a barrage of ghostly hammers on him. An idea flashed in his mind.

    I was betrayed? I was betrayed by¡­ Papa?

    He vomited again, this time it was blood and acid. He desperately tried to breathe, but it felt like a heavy weight was on his chest and he choked on his own blood. Some of his vomit managed to fall into his eyes and he felt the burn of his stomach acid while he desperately blinked away tears. He frothed and foamed at the mouth, like a mad man he twisted his broken body, trying to dispel the vomit from his mouth. But his controlled twists turned to spasmatic convulsions.

    Now he felt panic. All his life he wanted to open the cube, now he wished it remained shut.

    The cube popped open a little more. Another image, a memory of some kind, smashed into his mind. If the previous images had almost shattered his consciousness, this one did. This one was more vivid, more impactful, as if it was a deeper and more vivid memory. He was looking down at a dead body. His sword and his hands bloodied. His face hot from tears. On the ground was a woman, she had pale white skin. Her green eyes were open, lifeless and spatters of blood intermingled with the freckles around her nose. A strawberry shaped head and soft read hair, splayed out on the ground. A deep sword wound that almost bisected her chest caused a pool of blood to form around her corpse. He had killed her. She was dead by his own hands.

    Katherine¡­ Katherine¡­ Katherine¡­

    Her name was Katherine. He looked to the side, there was another person there with him. It looked like Chancellor McCarthy, a little younger. But his face was hysterical with tears. At his feet was a dead girl. Her sandy hair, green eyes and strawberry head gave her a close resemblance to the woman he had killed. He felt a pain in his chest when he saw her. A powerful pain. A deep pain.

    My daughter¡­ Maybelle¡­

    Then McCarthy screamed, ¡°Paderborn! I will murder you!¡±

    Everything went black.

 Hiatus

    Dear readers,

    I am in a difficult period of transition right now. I had a new baby (my first baby). I''m starting a new job and I have no house. I have not had one for a couple weeks now. I''m staying with my in-laws until my new house is completed. It''s been hard to ind a private place to write... since I no longer have my office and my computer broke... both critical obstacles to writing. I will start writing the Elder of Mediocrity again, sooner rather than later. But you won''t see a release from me until January. Life is full of unexpected events, to say the least.

    To make it up to you I''m posting a link to a novella I wrote a couple years back. The first in a series of novellas, I know the gap between chapters is difficult and I thank you guys for sticking with me and I hope that this small story will ease the pain of absent releases.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    It is... different... from my current story. I hope you enjoy. I hope to see you all again. Thank you very much. Don''t worry, I won''t drop the Elder of Mediocrity, I just need to get the time to settle into my house and new job and baby. Thanks a lot, I am so grateful to you all.

    Yours truly,

    James Paul Addington

    Link to A Roman Tale: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ufmzo7rlG6QKpd36QSDyn_UMQyJCgIWgQKBLGPiM6Yc/edit?usp=sharing</a>