《The Akaran Canticle》


 Prologue

    Kasim had had better days. He sat on the edge of the dune, wiping the sweat from his uncovered brow, just above his masque. From his sandy throne, the expanse of the desert was laid out before him. The sea of slow moving sand reflected the light of the two bright suns dancing in the sky. With a sigh, he stood ¨C his short break over. He held up his arclead, a small circular device with an arrow pointing in the direction of the nearest Hub. Not much further now, he thought trying to keep himself in a positive mood. He¡¯d been out in the Pickings for three weeks, with almost nothing to show for it, but an increasingly tattered map from his constant manhandling of the parchment. It turns out the map he had spent a small fortune on was another dead end, well almost, he thought remembering the small object he had found in the small chest he had dug up. The inscriptions on it were indecipherable, which was unusual to such a student as him. He could feel the lines of action moving through it but couldn¡¯t make out the unusual lettering. To him, it looked like a small bell without a clapper.


    Lifting his pack, he shambled down the side of the dune, going as fast as one can in the desert without the proper walking equipment or mount. He¡¯d really hear it from Pasia when he returned to the Arlam, with his clothes all sand worn and nothing to show of it, well, almost nothing he reminded himself. As Kasim made his way across the dunes, he would occasionally hear a small tinkling sound as if carried by the wind, a mere whisper.


    As the larger of the two suns set, he set down his pack. Taking out the heavily inscribed canteen, he took a gulp of water from the nearly empty vessel. Odd, he thought. He inspected the canteen¡¯s inscription and saw that one of the small markings had been scratched and broken, causing the lines of force moving through it to nearly stop flowing through it. He had inscribed the canteen to pull and purify the water in the air into the canteen. A handy thing in the desert. That is, if it isn¡¯t broken. Great. Well, at least it didn¡¯t completely break. But how¡¯d it get damaged?He had inscribed strength into the metal along with the water components and nothing should¡¯ve been able to scratch unless it was empowered blade.


    Kasim sat down onto the edge of this dune next to his pack and looked inside. The small bell-shaped item had worn its way through the cloth and would¡¯ve rubbed right up against the canteen. Aha!Kasim grabbed the trinket and looked closely. No rub marks on it! This thing is tough. A metal object like that should fetch a high price if sold to the Inscriber¡¯s University in Arlam. Kasim put his treasure back into his pack and took out the supplies needed to set up camp. Already he could feel the air begin to chill and he pulled out his overcoat that he used as a blanket to sleep.


    A fire started, a simple meal of roasted grains, and a gulp from his canteen that he fixed while it all cooked settled Kasim down for the night. The dune was situated so that it blocked most of the wind, and also provided some cover so others wouldn¡¯t see his fire. Had he the money, he would¡¯ve used a camping crystal, and what he wouldn¡¯t give to take his masque off. His masque, inscribed by him to allow water and food through, along with filtering the air was his crowning achievement. He had also made some adjustments to the inscription, such that he didn¡¯t lose so much water to breathing, which any desert wanderer knew was one of the ways the desert stole that precious liquid of life.


    He still heard the tinkling sound and found out that it came from his prize. It was making the sound more often now, which caused Kasim to be a little unsettled, but as a veteran of the wastes he had dealt with more dangerous things out searching on his own. That was one of his quirks. Most people felt the great expanse of the desert push on them ¨C a constant reminder that they are very small in a very big world. That is one of the reasons why the others chose to move in groups. Another person went a long way in guarding against the loneliness of such an open yet oppressive place. Kasim didn¡¯t mind. He was used to being alone. An orphan taken in by the University, trained when he had shown promise ¨C some might say too much promise ¨C and was now a fledging journeyman Inscriber that was years younger than his peers. Needless to say, this favorite of the Professors, as his jealous schoolmates called him, did not inspire others to be his friend. Only Pasia, a woman who many thought to have too big of a heart, bothered to look after him.


    He smiled as he looked into the fire, remembering his last interaction with Pasia. She had been quite upset that he was going to this part of the Pickings. After many attempts of placating her with mostly fictional tales of others who had traveled these parts with no problems had she finally relented and let him go. He looked down into his sun beaten hands at the object reflecting the firelight. She won¡¯t have to worry about money for a while, Kasim thought.


    Tinkle. Well, time for bed.Tinkle. Huh, its getting faster, Kasim thought as he readied his clothes closer to the fire to go to sleep for the evening. Tinkle. Kasim just shook his head and put a few extra folds over the object to quiet it.


    Kasim awoke with a start to shifting sands coming down the side of the dune. For the past three weeks he had constantly dealt with the sand. It was his constant and only companion. It caressed him throughout his travel with a brush of his cheek as the sand was blown by the wind. It hitched a ride in his shoes and clothes, to be carried with him as he travelled the many miles. Kasim was used to the sand, one had to be to be successful out here and not go crazy. As such, Kasim had started to consider himself, especially in the presence of impressionable ladies at the bar, a sort of sand whisperer. If the wind blew hard and caught the top of a dune, you¡¯d get so much sand, but if it blew this way or that wayyou¡¯d get this much sand. The amount of sand that tried to take up the same space as Kasim was not from the wind, with its supposed sprites and spirits. It was from something walking on the dune above him. The sleep left his mind. Something was walking on the dune above him.Even though he was already motionless, he tensed up like a rock, trying to keep his breathing slow and steady. Please let it be a scorpion, he thought. He had the expertise to deal with the animals of the desert with minimal trouble. He even carried a few containers of the expensive anti-venoms for the most common creatures that nature had blessed with the ability to slow the death of a mortally wounded creature, or the gods forbid a person, to a crawl. Tinkle.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Slowly. Tinkle. A muscle at a time, Kasim rolled over toward the direction of the sand. Looking up at the forms silhouetted against the bright moon, he knew he was in trouble. Tinkle. The object felt hot against his skin. He could hear their grunting now. The sounds of someone choking, drowning where there was no water. Tinkle. Options, options, options,he thought quickly. There wasn¡¯t much time, the figures, six human shaped forms shambled down the slope of the dune toward him and the remains of his fire. Tinkle.


    As they approached he reached to his pack and pulled out one of the crystals he had in there. He had inscribed the crystals for over 100 hours each ¨C that much time, by a journeyman meant that these were worth at least ten times their weight in gold. When it stopped you from getting murdered by a roving band of the Corrupted in the Pickings, they were worth every penny.


    Grasping the three gems closely, he activated them with a force of will. He threw them toward to the rambling band, now only 50 or so feet from him. As the three gems came close to a figure, it seemed to pull somethingfrom them. The figure stopped and collapsed, its silhouette appearing much thinner than the others as it did so. Three followed in this fashion, leaving three more for Kasim to contend with. He drew his inscribed blade, a long dagger, more of a tool than a means of hurting something or someone.


    The three figures were now upon him. The stench of them nearly made him vomit right then and there, but his stomach was clenched so tight that wouldn¡¯t have been possible anyway. Their skin was loose and noticeable even in the faint light of the moon overhead and their clothes were torn long ago.


    Positioning himself so that at least one of the Rovers was between him and the other two. He got into a fighting stance. He pulled a thin rod from his pocket; the entire length of the rod was covered in runes and glyphs. With his dagger forward, he started to move the rod. The ground responded to the binding and welled up around the rover in front of him, binding its feet. The Rover toppled over from its feet suddenly not moving. Kasim giggled a little, partly from the ridiculousness of the scene ¨C he¡¯d always want to try that on someone ¨C but mainly from fear and stress. Tinkle. The sound of the bell brought him into focus. Already, he could feel the rod was getting hot. It was not his best work and he had already been using it every day for the past three weeks to shift the sands to find hidden things. Setting his jaw, he moved in. Stabbing down on the toppled Rover, just as the others reached him. A gurgle came out of the mouth of the one on the ground as he stabbed down into its back. The weak flesh parting and the bone shattering to give way to the hardened steel.


    The prone Rover shuddered once and then laid still. Well, that¡¯s one, he thought. He said a small prayer of thanks to Brim, the god of luck and wisdom. He shifted again on the loose sands to move again such that he only faced one of the Rovers at a time. He wasn¡¯t quick enough to completely evade the closer one and suffered a swipe of a clawed hand against his forearm. The cuts burning in the cool night air. They weren¡¯t deep, but the claws carried the Affliction, that which turned normal people into these shambling shadows of what they once were. He knew he had some time to purify the wound, with fire or with a blessing from one of the gods, so it wasn¡¯t a focus in his mind.


    After the next swipe by his current opponent, he ducked under it and drove the dagger up under the sternum of the creature. He felt the dagger screech against bone as it drove home. This was a fatal blow for the Rover, but left Kasim in an awkward spot. His dagger had caught on some bone as he pulled it out. In his fright, he refused to let go. The Rover, its strength fading, dragged its claws along his back, opening tracks of red blood to the night air. It choked one more time and fell forward onto him. The weight threw Kasim off balance, causing him to lose his grip on his blade as he attempted to keep his feet.


    The other Rover went around the bound Kasim and let out some choking noises. Grunting, Kasim shoved the now dead Rover off him. He lost his blade in the chest of the Rover, leaving him with just his sand rod. The remaining Rover hopped forward and swiped a meaty claw against his back. The force of it caused Kasim to turn, and his feeting getting caught up on the legs of the now prone figure, stumbled to a knee. The remaining Rover let out a gurgle of victory and leapt at Kasim. It tried to bite his exposed neck, but Kasim in a last bid of desperation, shoved the length of the rod into the eye of the Rover, driving it all the way into the skull and brain of the stupid beast up to his hand. It gurgled once and struggled against his hand, trying to bite him. With a shudder, one of its arms jerked across Kasim¡¯s face and tore his masque from his face. With a cry and breathing in the sharp acrid of the desert for the first time, Kasim pushed the Rover over and went for his masque. The claws of the Rover had damaged many of the glyphs that covered its surface. Shit, shit, shit.Kasim wasn¡¯t worried about the scratches, but he was worried about the air. He only had a few minutes before he would go dumb as the air filled his lungs and his body with toxins. His hands shaking, he hurried to his pack, cradling his damaged masque in his hands.


    He took out his inscribing stylus and worked to fix his masque. This glyph should be a shaa,that one a lef,Kasim thought as he worked to save his life. His vision blurring, he continued to work. As he started coughing, he realized that he could not fix it completely in time. Doing some damage control, he managed to get most of the purifying glyphs set, but exhaustion overtook him before he could get it working again. His mind felt sandblasted and raw. Slumping, he started to drift off and the throb from his wounds seemed to deaden. He started to hallucinate. Memories flooded in front of his eyes. Getting his rank of journeyman from the University. Professor Stillfen clapping him on the back, warning him not to be too cocky but congratulating him never the less. His classmates looking at him in disdain, for achieving much in a little time and seeing one smiling, one genuine beacon of happiness amongst the hate. Pasia had stared up from the crowd, a look of genuine love on her face. After telling her about his last trip, he remembered her making him promise her to not come out here again. He remembered hearing her silent crying, and looking at the paper of eviction he found at her place long after she had gone to bed when he spent the night one time. A promise to himself that this would be his last trip, just one more to stop Pasia from getting kicked from her home. A promise he couldn¡¯t keep, he thought. He closed his eyes, and after a while his breathing slowed, became harsh, and then stopped.


    The desert night became quiet then, or rather it returned to its nature. The only sound being the rustling of the sand across sand, and the whispers of the wind as it filled the space between the dunes. The blood of the slumped figure was slowly drunk by the sands. After some time, even that stopped. And in a rare event, the wind stopped. The silence was absolute then. The moon shone, and the stars twinkled above. Both battling to the light the sky with their presence. In the moment, or perhaps it was between the moments, wedged deep into the space when time has stopped, the quiet rested, a reprieve from being shattered by the necessity and failure of survival. And so it did, as if also to give the wind a break from its eternal travels, and to just stay. Like a clock rewound by some outside force, the wind picked up again, and the sky rotated above the sands of the Pickings. As the moon descended to retreat behind the horizon, a thin light broke the opposite horizon.


    Tinkle.

 Chapter 1

    High in the Pernin Mountains, where the world was rent in half, on top of a plateau with its top as flat as an anvil a man trudged through the elements. His heavy fur lined boots broke the monotony of the constant howling wind. The stark staccato of crushing earth beneath his feet moved on a beat, but it was not even. His left leg hesitated just a bit as he walked, but he walked with a sureness of step that belied that of discipline. The man¡¯s head was completely covered except for the masque that covered his face, the device shimmered over his beard and seemed to illuminate his face. The beard had long ago turned to white, with only a few whispers of grey left to mark that there had been color there originally at all. He had lines on his face that sunk beneath the waves of beard. Lines that spoke of laughter, of anger, and of sadness. They are the lines of a life well lived, the proud medals to show the world, but now they are hidden by masque and beard.


    The wind became more intense as the man, Bern, approached the plateau edge. His camp was only a few hundred yards away behind him, with smoke already rising from the stove pipe atop the main tent. The smoke showed the same colors of the sky, with the purples of twilight on the bottom going up to the bright gold bands of the final sunset.


    At the edge, Bern saw that the cliff had stairs set into side, descending onto a small landing below the cliff edge, hidden from view. He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the jutting stone platform. It did not look natural, just as the stairs weren¡¯t. They were too sharp to be cleaved by time and nature, especially with the brutal ice. No, the ledge looked like the cliff was sticking its tongue out at the sunset, with the edge of the platform raised into a high-backed chair facing directly into the fading light. Bern smiled to himself, she has made a throne. The she Bern referred to was well hidden from his view, but he knew she would be sitting upon that chair, no matter how uncomfortable the stone would be.


    Bern descended the stairs, placing one hand on the sharp rock face to stead himself from the vertigo of being so close to a hundred foot fall. This didn¡¯t stop him from appreciating the view. For the last few moments as the world descended into dusk, the large valley before them looked as if there was a mixing of gold and silver, with the silver slowly overtaking the gold. This take over was even and orderly, as the various hills and dips gave ground to the silver while the open plain held firm to the gold.


    Bern reached the landing, his feet firm on the stone. At least she was nice enough to put treading in, he thought. His steps were upon the rough patches where someone who was just a few fingers shorter than him would place their feet in steady stride. He reached the chair and placing his hand on it for support, stood next to it just taking in the view before him. As he watched the day fade away, the figure in the chair and he greeted the night. She looked so small there, with her legs drawn up to her chest, in the large high-backed chair. Her head was uncovered, yet her curvy auburn hair sat still in the evening air. It was a stark contrast to the girl¡¯s skin, a soft white, a mix of white alabaster with soft hues of gold to bring some color. Her dark green cloak was open, and it too was not moved by the howling wind that seemed to surround Bern. She wore clothes of heavy brown fur looking like a small cub outside of its den. Her face was exposed to the harsh cold mountain air, but it too looked as if it was in a much milder climate. The small button of her nose met her mouth with a dimple and her soft chin rounded her face in a lithe figure.


    As the sun fell below the opposite mountain, she let out a small breath, as if she were holding it during the whole sunset. She moved her blue eyes onto Bern. They seemed to move between light green and blue like waves upon a shore. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever get tired of seeing that,¡± she said.


    ¡°Oh! I thought there were only statues up here. Yeah nice view,¡± Bern said, ¡°the throne is a bit much, though.¡± He tapped the chair back a few times. ¡°No scrollwork, your highness?¡±


    ¡°It keeps the wind from my back, thank you very much,¡± she said back to him a small smile coming up in the corners of her mouth.


    ¡°Kaena, you¡¯re a Tamer. You can make the wind blow the other way. You wanted a throne,¡± Bern teased her. ¡°Was this one any better than last nights?¡±


    ¡°No, but it was different. They are all different.¡± She said as she looked into the slowly disappearing valley below. She knocked a pebbled off the edge down into the valley below. She didn¡¯t hear it hit the ground.


    Bern shifted and rolled his eyes a bit at that, ¡°Well Miss philosopher, what did the sky tell you this time?¡±


    ¡°Besides reminding me how annoying you are? I don¡¯t know, they just feel different, you know? Sometimes the suns seem to glow a little brighter before they go, almost as if its one more smile before bed; a quick reminder that a wonderful day happened and is now over.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°Hmmmm, well my belly is telling me that lunch has been over for a while, and that we will miss our supper if we don¡¯t hurry. I tell you that each one of those is different,¡± Bern said with a small laugh. Dinner on the construction crew was always the same: stew. Sure the stew contents may change a bit, but their cook, Britta, always managed to make them all taste the same.


    Kaena giggled a little at that, ¡°I¡¯m not sure that we should use the stew as a means of measuring of the days passing.¡±


    ¡°What, you don¡¯t like Britta¡¯s cooking? I¡¯ll just tell her and then I¡¯ll get your portions!¡± Bern said patting his belly. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get up from this ledge before we get blown off.¡±


    ¡°Before you get blown off, you mean,¡± Kaena said.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Bern mumbled as he pulled a small globe out of his pocket. It was heavily inscribed and after pushing his will upon the object, it started to glow brightly, illuminating the stairway up to the plateau top. The white light made the stairs cast stark shadows on the cliffside. He shifted and started his walk to the stairs. Kaena got up from her seat and followed, and after a moment noticed his shifting.


    ¡°Bern, is your leg bothering you again?¡±


    Bern frowned at this, ¡°No, it¡¯s quite all right. Just a little stiff from the night, is all.¡±


    ¡°Here,¡± Kaena shifted and reached for the air, exciting it around Bern. The wind picked up, shifted, and seemed to calm as the air around Bern warmed up.


    Bern looked back at her, with a small look of thanks on his face. They had been working on the same crew now for 4 months, and she still continued to amaze him. How someone so gifted had shoehorned herself into this little pocket of creation was still a mystery to him.


    They ascended the stairs together, Kaena on the edge and Bern, of course, with his free hand on the cliffside. They reached the top with the world around them in complete darkness and only Bern¡¯s light globe to stave off the inky black.


    ¡°Hold on a moment,¡± Kaena said stopping at the top. Bern saw that she got into a familiar stance: the one she used to bring the rock up into the line with the built road. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and felt. As she extended herself into the rock, she fell into that familiar feeling where she could not longer tell what was her feet and what was the ground. She was ground, and it was her. She sharpened her focus, she was no longer the ground, but only a portion. Moving slowly, she found where the ledge had extended out from the cliffside and teased and coaxed it. She slowly broke it away from the cliff, little by little, until finally it fell free as if it was never apart of the cliff in the first place. Looking at the stairs that she had made, she pulled up on the bottom stair. As it came up, the edge of the cliff retreated.


    While she was powerful, she was no Shaper and could not change the nature of the rock she worked with. As a result she had to pull it together to hide the steps she had carved into it. In the end, the edge was closer to the center of the plateau where the bottom step was, and the edge curved out to where she stood. Where before there was a staircase to nowhere, there was only lumpy rock.


    Sweat beaded and flowed on her face as she worked. When she was finished, she looked as if she had just finished running a race and lifting heavy stones at the same time. Bern just watched the whole process in awe. Even though he was an accomplished Inscriber, he was always impressed by those who could shape and change the world around them. Kaena opened her eyes and looked to Bern, a little embarrassed. She didn¡¯t like to show her power to off, especially to those who she looked up to. ¡°Gods almighty, that was wonderful,¡± Bern said holding a hand out for Kaena to steady herself as she came back into herself. ¡°And I¡¯ll never get tired of that, little one. Every time you move the world, it always shifts a different way,¡± Bern said with a smile peaking over the sides of his beard and masque.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing like the art that you make, Bern. I wish I had your pinky when it came to ¡®Scribing things. I can¡¯t even get the glyphs right. Even when they are right in front of me!¡± Kaena said, sounding much better.


    The two made their way into the camp and as they approached the camp, the air seemed to shimmer before them. As they stepped through the Veil, the air relaxed around them and was warm. Both immediately relaxed, with Kaena relaxing her hold on the air around Bern, and Bern removed his masque.


    ¡°Ah! That¡¯s more like it. I hate this thing,¡± Bern said holding his clear and heavily inscribed masque in his hands. ¡°No matter how flexible I make it, a beard never seems to feel right under it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a work of art, Bern. Most people don¡¯t have clear masques. I like how I can actually see someone¡¯s mouth move,¡± Kaena said shifting out of her heavy cloak.


    ¡°Says the one person who doesn¡¯t have to wear one,¡± Bern grumbled as he too, removed his now unneeded cloak.


    ¡°Hold on a second, I used to have to wear one,¡± Kaena said holding her hand up mockingly. ¡°I passed my test and I survived without it. Tell Bern, have you ever walked out of a Hub¡¯s Veil and not had a masque on? Because I was scared shitless,¡± she said playfully.


    ¡°Actually, I have,¡± Bern said, a full smile crossing his face and reaching up to his eyes.


    ¡°Wait what-¡±


    Bern held his hand up, having shed some of his outer wear, ¡°But that is a story for another time. Come on, let¡¯s grab some of Britta¡¯s food before she gives it to the pimus.¡±


    ¡°Aw, please? You really did? I thought only Tamers did that!¡±


    Bern just laughed, and made his way to the main tent. ¡°Well, shall we?¡± Bern said cocking a hairy white eyebrow at her?


    ¡°Bern,¡± Kaena said quietly, ¡°could you not tell the others what you saw me do? I don¡¯t want them to know.¡±


    Bern looked at her for a long moment, shook his head, and said, ¡°Of course, little one. You know I won¡¯t.¡± And saying that, he drew the heavy canvas flap back, letting the light and warmth and laughter pour out of the tent. Taking a deep breath, Kaena stepped into the tent. Bern followed after her and the flap fell flat behind them.

 Chapter 2

    The world shifted as the two stepped into the tent, like moving through a second Veil. The cacophony coming from their companions was a striking difference to the drone of the wind outside. The tent was roomy, and like many structures, was much larger on the inside than it looked on the outside. The oven was placed in the center of the tent, with its large fire poking out from the grating at the top. The light and shadows of the fire and the people danced and fought upon the tent walls. The crucial components were present for a lively night: a receptive crowd, quality if not a little monotonous cooking, and the most important factor; alcohol. The crew had just received a fresh batch of wine and ale from the nearby Hub along with any extra building supplies the team couldn¡¯t easily produce from the surrounding area.


    The breath Kaena let out as she walked into the tent was much colder than the one she let fill her lungs. The people before her were animated in recounting a recent event that had happened while they were digging into one of the earlier mountains.


    ¡°So there I am, fiddling with my instruments next to the wall making sure that we aren¡¯t about to flood the place,¡± said a fair skinned, balding man holding his spoon so close to his face that it was practically on the bridge of his nose, ¡°and then Ava runs over, eyes big as dinner plates, yelling that she lit the charges and that we need to run back to the side chamber.¡± The man then waves the spoon away from his face, realization dawning across it like a bright sunny morning - followed by dark stormy clouds. ¡°I said I couldn¡¯t move while my instruments were working-¡±


    ¡°Screeched like a new born baby you mean,¡± said a woman, Ava, near one the casks of ale. Taking a gulp of her newly poured mug, she pointed a finger at him, ¡°Denni actually thought about whether or not to leave them. I had to pull him, kicking and screaming, back to the side tunnel. We barely made it there before the blow back hit.¡± The others laughed at the bald man, whose face had taken on new shades of the fire¡¯s light and was mumbling something about inscriptions and gold.


    ¡°That sounds like our Denni,¡± Bern said smiling while pouring himself a mug of ale. ¡°He¡¯s more attached to his devices than his own head!¡±


    ¡°Oh, Bern, you¡¯re back with our little adventurer,¡± Ava said with a slight sneer. ¡°How was the sunset today? Glad to be out of cave to see the sky?¡±


    ¡°Lovely as always, thanks for asking, Ava,¡± Kaena said with a tight mouth. ¡°How¡¯s the ale, it looks like you¡¯re enjoying quite a lot of it.¡± She went over next to Bern and poured herself a drink.


    ¡°Cool it you two. Remember, we are out of that forsaken tunnel. Scouting reports say that we will be above ground for at least another three weeks working on top of the plateaus.¡±


    Bern, in a few steps had reached the oven, and made two bowls of the stew that sat on the grill above the oven. Nodding to Kaena, he sat down at one of the tables and began to eat the cloudy stew. After a few bites, Bern looked to a stout looking woman at her own table working away on a small piece of metal that was already nearly covered in glyphs, ¡°Wonderful as always, Britta. What was the meat tonight? Goat?¡±


    The woman, not bothering to look up from her work just hmphed and said, ¡°Pimu.¡±


    ¡°Ah, now I taste it!¡± Bern said, wiggling his eyebrows at Kaena and Ava. Both women had seen this scene plenty of times before, and giggled, waiting to see if Britta would take the bait.


    ¡°Is that, mint? Or is it basil? Perhaps tarragon?¡± With that, Britta pulled back a little from her work and looked up at him, a new clarity in her green eyes, ¡°Bern, your powers of perception astound me. I have never heard such a completely wrong deduction before. You know full and well that we only have onions. You signed off on the food order!¡± With a final hrmph, she pushed back from the table, grabbed her things and stormed off out of the tent, muttering about the a white head having nothing inside it but turnips.


    With that, Bern drank a bit of his ale, audibly setting his mug down, and relaxed into his chair. ¡°I think,¡± he said, his eyebrows dancing on their own, ¡°Denni, you¡¯ll be getting one of your toys back tomorrow if I judge the amount of ire burning in that woman.¡±


    ¡°You know, Bern, complements work just as well as pushing someone¡¯s buttons in terms of motivation,¡± Denni said, grabbing yet another bowl of the stew, steam coming off of it.


    ¡°Then what would we do for entertainment? But in all seriousness, she¡¯s putting on a show there. She knows how much I appreciate her cooking,¡± Bern said between bites.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess she would¡¯ve asked for a transfer sometime in the last three years she¡¯s been with us,¡± Kaena said, her spoon pinged in the empty bowl.


    Tipping back his mug, Bern nodded at Ava, ¡°Could you please top me off? I seemed to have misplaced my ale.¡±


    Ava smiled at bit at this, walking over and collecting the vessel. ¡°That always seems to be the mystery with you Bern. Just like the mystery of Britta¡¯s last batch of butter cookies.¡± Ava made a mocking thinking pose, ¡°Come to think of it, I¡¯d say we lose one batch out of five to your negligence. Are you getting a little senile?¡±


    Bern laughed heartily at this. ¡°Ah, the fire of youth. If only we could put your deductive skills to use building this road. I say we would be all the way to Arlam by now.¡± Bern tapped his head thoughtfully. Ava came over with the full mug, and placed it on table next to him.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Try not to lose this, ya old man,¡± Ava said, walking toward the tent flap. ¡°Anyway, its bed time for me. I¡¯ll see you all in the morning.¡±


    Kaena tensed up a little bit at this exchange, she knew that they were just playing with each other, but she¡¯d seen where play could quickly lead to actual violence. Kaena looked down at her empty bowl.


    ¡°My you¡¯re more quiet than usual Kaena,¡± Denni said. ¡°Don¡¯t let Ava bother you, she just has an¡­ abrasive¡­ personality. I think that if you two weren¡¯t in constant competition with the those ¡®mystical¡¯,¡± Denni made air quotes, ¡°tamer abilities, I think you two would make great friends.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that,¡± Kaena said, ¡°Ava and I have only had negative interactions even before she knew who I was. It¡¯s like she came here already hating me.¡± Denni and Bern both frowned at this. With a nod, Denni got up and waved at them saying, ¡°Well, it¡¯s time for me to hit the hay. See you both in the morning.¡±


    The two of them sat in the lengthening shadows of the dying fire. After a moment, like checking sure the coast was clear, Kaena asked, ¡°Are we really getting a Shaper?¡±


    Bern raised an eyebrow at this, ¡°And what makes you think we are?¡±


    Kaena lowered her head a bit, ¡°I may have overheard you talking to Britta about it when I came back for lunch after we extended up onto the plateau. I didn¡¯t think we were getting one for a while yet.¡±


    Bern touched his lip, wondering whether or not to hold his thought in. ¡°Well, the Guild is really happy with our progress. Since you¡¯ve joined my crew 4 years ago, we¡¯ve been near the top for the extension crews. Also, the timeline for the project got pushed up. Akam¡¯s relationships with Duc Merdina, have been less than warm as of late.¡±


    Kaena perked up at hearing the news, ¡°What has happened? Another dispute between the Guild and the Merchant Consortium?¡±


    ¡°No, this time it goes quite a bit higher. Apparently the Duke of Duc Merdina isn¡¯t pleased with the search for his niece in Akam. He says that people have been, obstructing, his search.¡± With that, Bern looked up at the young woman. A seriousness in his eyes she had rarely seen.


    ¡°She¡¯d be, what, about your age?¡± Kaena shifted a little, trying to hold her discomfort in. Bern sat back in his chair, messing with his mug.


    ¡°You know Kaena, few people take a position in the guild that involves extension work. It can be lonely out here. Which is perfectly fine for me. But, I also know that a remote place like this can be a good refuge,¡± Bern said staring straight into her eyes, ¡°especially if someone is trying to hide from something or someone.¡±


    Kaena¡¯s face had become stony at this, ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about Bern. You know my story. My family died in a caravan crossing between Duc Merdina and Arlam; my masque was the only one that didn¡¯t break. I took a spot in the Arlam Tamer¡¯s University after passing the scholarship entry exam.¡± She tried to push honesty into her eyes, as if it would reinforce this retelling of the story. One of the few things Kaena was good at, besides taming, was the ability to remember things exactly. She told her lies perfectly, but words are only a component of a lie. The other bits she wasn¡¯t so good at.


    Bern looked down into his empty mug, sighed, and placed it on the table. ¡°Well, if you ever remember something and want to share, please don¡¯t be afraid to tell me.¡± He stood, and pausing, ¡°We¡¯ve been through quite a bit, Kaena. I think that maybe you should try to trust your friends with some of that weight you carry around with you. Just as you saved Denni and Ava from that explosion, we can help you too.¡±


    Kaena¡¯s mouth contorted, ¡°Wait, how¡¯d you know-¡±


    Bern raised a hand, ¡°I know in time you¡¯ll tell me the whole thing. Just remember I¡¯ve been doing this for longer than you¡¯ve been alive. I cut those fuses and I know how long they last. I also know that those fuses burn at a rate comparable to the amount of oxygen that is around them. Something that would be easy for a highly talented tamer could manipulate without anyone else knowing by focusing their will only on the small space around the lit fuse.¡± Bern smiled at this. ¡°I was also damned lucky to being keeping the time and I happen to know a gifted tamer.¡± As Bern opened the flap to leave he scratched at his beard and said, ¡°Yeah, with my favorite philosophical razor, I think I¡¯ll clean up real nice tonight. Goodnight, Kaena. Don¡¯t play with the fire for too long tonight.¡±


    Kaena began to digest the words that Bern had said. It had been unspoken that something else had pushed her here, into this remote corner of a dangerous world. Bern had accepted that, just as his own mistakes had forced him into this corner. Taking a breath, Kaena coaxed the fire out of the top of the grill. It moved through the air like a serpent, twisting this way and that with her will. It was ultimately limited by the burning charcoal and logs at the bottom of the grill, but she could move the flame with almost complete freedom around the large tent. She was always proud of herself, for in the four years she¡¯d been with Bern, she¡¯d only managed to burn down the tent once. Even then, Bern had taken the blame for that. He always covered for her. She knew that his motives weren¡¯t completely altruistic, as Bern had a repenter¡¯s complex, but still she largely owed her prolonged anonymity to that strange bearded man.


    As she worked the flame into fat coils and then thin lines, she took a small bucket of water and wove the two together into a tapestry of opposites. The start contrast between the two elements was apparent at the intersection points. It took quite a bit of control to make sure that the flame didn¡¯t boil the water away and that the water didn¡¯t extinguish the flame. But that was how Kaena¡¯s life was for the past four years, to prove herself as a capable member of the team who could be trusted with complex tasks, while also not making such a show of it that she would be noticed.


    Now she knew her luck had run out, as a Shaper was coming to the extension crew. And the guild only recruited the best Shapers from the prestigious shaper school in Duc Merdina, where she had been to many public events as a child. Still, she hoped that it would hold. To be honest, she really did like working with the people on the crew. Even Ava, when she wasn¡¯t being a complete bitch. She knew that once she told Bern her whole story, the man was like to change his opinion of her - drastically.


    Finally, with the weave so tight she could no longer look through it and having it completely encompass a majority of the tent space, a spot began to break down in the pattern. She focused on the spot, lightning flashed in the air around the boiling water as she fought for control. Like a fuse, the weave fell apart as it was boiled and extinguished from the single point. The only sound was the sudden hiss of steam being made and the patter of water on the floor. After a time, the entirety of the construct was gone, and Kaena was left to sit, staring at the embers.


    After some time, she got up. She Smothered the faint sparks of life of the fire with her will and without looking left the main tent for her own. She laid down on her bed, and slept.