《Supernova - The Arrow Enchanter》


 Prologue

    For thousands of years, six gods and goddesses, all brothers and sisters, lived alone, wandering about the ether. They had neither homes nor realms. They just roamed aimlessly in search of something, a purpose. These immortals lived apart and rarely met up. But when it was unavoidable, they would fight for centuries, until exhaustion. Upon seeing that they could not defeat each other, they would give up and return to the ether.


    On one occasion, all six gathered together at the same time. Their eyes met, but they did not fight. They realized that their real strength would come from uniting their powers. Together, they decided to create a world in which each one would dominate a part.


    Earth, the first and largest of them all, raised his arms and created a gigantic sphere above his hands. Its contours were perfect. He demonstrated his skill in giving form to matter. The sphere possessed its creator¡¯s virtues: strength and beauty.


    The second, Air, was not pleased with the creation¡¯s impeccable form. To be an authentic world, he felt it needed some flaws. For years, this god forcefully blew gusts of wind that sculpted the sphere, forming valleys, hills, mountains and caves, thus transforming its terrain. Air conveyed his audacity and persistence to the world. Those changes left Earth furious, but the giant accepted his brother¡¯s work.


    Water then decided to wash away all the dust Air had left behind on the sphere. She moved to the top of the world, carefully observed every detail and opened her immense mouth, disgorging oceans onto the round sculpture. Little by little, liquid filled every depression in the immense rock, giving way to rivers, lakes and seas. Water¡¯s patience and serenity were apparent while she contributed to the creation. Nevertheless, the goddess was disappointed when she saw all the liquid turn to ice because of the sphere¡¯s low temperature. Displeased, she asked Fire for help.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    With his fiery hands, Fire felt all the cold emanating from it. The god shrank away, afraid the frigid atmosphere would harm him. But, with courage and drive, he plunged his fist into the ice, melting everything he touched. He endured the pain and pressed on until his finger touched the center of the world, where rock turned to magma. The heat, radiating through the earth¡¯s layers, melted most of the ice. The goddess, his sister, thanked him and they both stepped away, giving Light room to work.


    From the beginning, this god seemed troubled. The world was in the midst of a dark, desolate vacuum. Using his knowledge and creativity, Light placed a huge luminous orb he called the sun on one side of the globe, giving life to that part of the world. The rest, however, was left in darkness. He created more sources of light to solve the problem; nevertheless, with his strength taxed by his first endeavor, Light could only create smaller sources, which he tossed into the surrounding vastness. Although unable to light the entire sphere, he had created trillions of stars, filling the emptiness with much more beauty. Drained, Light yielded his place to Darkness.


    This goddess, in turn, thought about which virtues she could give this new world. With her clear-sightedness, she realized that something was missing from this creation, something none of her brothers or sisters had thought of. Her ambition dictated that she benefit from this. With one hand, she held the rock from underneath and, in a gentle movement, spun it with the other. The world began to turn and the large orb of light, given by her brother, now lit the entire globe one side at a time. The gods and goddesses appreciated this idea but concluded that their youngest sister¡¯s effort was not as great as theirs had been. Seeing her fellow god¡¯s and goddesses¡¯ dissatisfaction, Darkness asked that they look more closely at their creation. She showed them that, by spinning the globe, she had created Equilibrium, a force capable of controlling all the energy and elements they had placed there. From that moment on, the sphere would have the same proportion of light and dark, of cold and warmth, of happiness and sadness, of good and evil¡­ Without her siblings noticing it, she had placed a little bit of darkness in every small corner of the world.


    The Creation of the World


    A textbook in Acigam

 Chapter 1 - Science Classes

    I love looking out my bedroom window. Everything is so peaceful from up here. I watch the wind rocking the trees, the fence¡¯s shadow on the flowers in the garden, birds inhabiting their nest in a bush and even the ants walking across the wooden windowsill. I see the details; everything catches my attention: movement, lights, colors. My focus sharpens at every novelty. I feel like the world has slowed down and I¡¯m the only one here to admire its scenery, for as long I need. My concentration is heightened; even sound disappears. I hear only thoughts, my questions. While I watch the branches swaying, I breathe deeply. My head moves from side to side at the same rhythm with the calmness of the moment. In the sky, a large cloud approaches; it has a curious shape, perhaps a bear. Little by little, the cloud covers the sun and the fence-shaped shadow disappears, giving way to another, larger one that swallows the entire yard.


    ¡°Leeeee!¡± I hear someone calling, breaking that precious silence. ¡°Leran, I¡¯ve been calling you for ten minutes. Son, you¡¯re going to be late.¡±


    It¡¯s my mother, talking as she enters my room. She reminds me I have class today.


    I change clothes quickly and brush my teeth. I comb my hair to the side, trying to look different. I don¡¯t like the look. I muss it up with my hands and my hair returns to its normal shape: parted in the middle, with bangs. I run downstairs, grab my bag, take a donut from the breakfast table and hurry out the door.


    ¡°Le. What about my kiss?¡± I return, the donut already in my mouth, and offer my cheek so she can kiss it. ¡°Get going, before you¡¯re late,¡± she says. I shoot her a cross look and leave.


    I hate waking up early. Fortunately, that sacrifice is coming to an end. Classes end in a little over a month. I¡¯m going to miss this time of friends and teachers, well, at least those that aren¡¯t so tough. Yeah, there¡¯ve been some boring classes, but others have been fairly useful. They say the things we learn in Acigam are different from those taught in other cities around the world. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s true, but, everything¡¯s focused on our culture, with no room for learning about other people and places. I¡¯ve been in math, history classes and studied some practical subjects that have taught us how to be good gardeners, construction workers, cooks and even become specialists in some weapons and types of combat. The Royal Guard, our combined army and police force, is always a good first job option for young people.


    Today, I have archery practice. It¡¯s one of my favorite subjects. I can safely say I¡¯m the best in my class; at least I can hit the target at greater distances. My teacher says I have excellent powers of concentration and observation, which helps me. After all, there must be some advantages to being, shall we say, so absent-minded. That¡¯s what my friends and family claim. For them, I can easily shut myself off from the world around me. But that¡¯s not it; they¡¯re exaggerating. I just like to see things carefully.


    On the way to school, I walk slowly, looking at the grass and the trodden earth on the road. Some very small holes in the dirt catch my eye.


    Insects might have dug them. I stop and wait for something to come out, but the minutes go by and nothing happens. I look around to see if anything has changed, but nothing has. I squat and observe more closely, trying to see what¡¯s in there. I stay a few minutes longer and then, startled, I hear the school bell.


    Damn! It¡¯s time for class.


    I¡¯d forgotten about that and, worse yet, I¡¯m still far away. Luckily, the new bell they installed is really loud. It lets the entire neighborhood know classes have started ¨C very useful and rather irritating at the same time.


    I run so hard I feel like I¡¯m about to die. I rush through the gate and find the other students. Having already gotten their equipment, they¡¯re on their way to the archery range. I grab mine and slip into the crowd, hiding. I quickly get in line, pushing two classmates aside seconds before our teacher looks at us. Perfect!


    ¡°Good morning, Mr. Yandel! Did you oversleep again?¡± If there are people with eyes in the back of their heads, Mr. Cortez is certainly one of them. The look of surprise on my face from his question gives me away even further.


    ¡°Actually, I got lost in an insect hole,¡± I answer with a yellow smile. I hear laughter from the back of the class.


    ¡°Very funny. You can start,¡± he says, marking the firing line in the dirt. ¡°Fifty meters is good for a first shot, don¡¯t you think, Mr. Yandel?¡±


    I look at the target, walk up to the line, look at the target again and say, ¡°A close from here, isn¡¯t it?¡± My classmates laugh again.


    ¡°We¡¯re waiting,¡± my teacher replies.


    I take an arrow from my quiver, place it on the rest, aim and pull. I keep the bow taught but don¡¯t fire. I try focusing better. No matter how hard I try, I can¡¯t see straight. It¡¯s really far, further than I¡¯m used to. The entire class is behind me, silent, waiting for my shot.


    ¡°Concentrate,¡± my teacher whispers softly near my ear. ¡°Bring it to you.¡±


    Squinting to focus better, I quit paying attention to my surroundings. For a few seconds, it¡¯s just the target and me. Little by little, I notice more details. Now I can see the flaws in the painted circles and the marks from other arrows that have struck it. It¡¯s as if the target were just a few meters in front of me. The grass is moving to the left, which shows me the direction of the wind. That helps me adjust my aim. I raise the bow slightly to the right, in a motion so careful that most miss it. Then I release. It fires. I watch the arrow sprint forward and a few seconds later, there it is, stuck in the third circle from the target¡¯s center. I hear applause and shouts of praise.


    ¡°I expected better, Leran,¡± Mr. Cortez says with a serious tone, but then he smiles. ¡°But, you¡¯re still the best archer I¡¯ve ever taught.¡±


    I smile back at him and move so the others can practice. Mr. Cortez is, without a doubt, one of the teachers I¡¯ll miss. In spite of being tough, he knows how to motivate us. He¡¯s the reason I¡¯ve dedicated myself to archery. I walk over to the benches and sit down for a few minutes. Now I can relax and watch the others; I enjoy myself doing that. It¡¯s time for an awkward kid whose name I can never remember. He¡¯s practiced all through high school, just like everyone else, but he still shoots his arrows backwards. Most of us know that and prefer watching from in front of him. In fact, when he shoots, the safest spot is the target. Luckily for everyone, Mr. Cortez has never let him practice with real arrows. He still shoots with rubber tips, the ones we use in our first year. After a few glasses of water, I¡¯m ready to practice some more. I keep shooting until the end of class. I don¡¯t even notice time flying by.


    We have science for the rest of the day. I truly detest this subject. They only teach nonsense; I know. But I don¡¯t dare share that opinion with other students. The government is very strict with people who challenge the truth of their teachings. I study and always try to get as good grades as possible. It¡¯s just that today, I¡¯m not into it. Worse yet, these boring classes always seem to last forever. During the lecture, I doodle, think about my plans for the weekend, chat a little with my classmates and pay no attention at all to what the teacher is saying. Happily, they¡¯ve also slacked off. At other times, I¡¯d probably have gotten a warning or some other punishment for being disruptive. We¡¯ve already taken our major tests and are so close to the end of classes that one more day or less won¡¯t make any difference. After all, what do a few hours mean for someone who¡¯s spent most of his seventeen years studying?


    Finally, the bell rings, announcing the end of this hassle. I quickly gather up my stuff, which was almost ready anyway, and exit the room. I say bye to some of my friends and, as I¡¯m leaving the building, Mr. Cortez calls me:


    ¡°Leran, come here, please,¡± he says, going into his office.


    I do an about face, go in and sit down. I look at him and raise my eyebrows, expecting to get chewed out for being late, or something like that.


    ¡°Leran, after all these years teaching archery, I¡¯m very proud of your progress. I wasn¡¯t kidding when I said you¡¯re my best student, and I¡¯d like to give you something.¡±


    Wow, a present! What could it be? I¡¯m uneasy, anxious, but try to look calm.


    ¡°Mr. Cortez, you didn¡¯t have to¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, I did,¡± he says, interrupting me. ¡°Today was our last class and you¡¯ll need to keep on practicing.¡±


    He stands up, goes to his locker and takes out a large package. Could it be what I think it is?


    When he hands it to me, I quickly rip the paper without thinking. I¡¯m surprised by what I see. It¡¯s a bow ¨C new, beautiful. Limbs of firm lightly curved wood covered in reddish leather. Its size and weight are perfect for me. It¡¯s wonderful.


    ¡°Thanks a lot. It¡¯s excellent. I¡¯m really going to practice.¡±


    ¡°Be careful not to hurt anyone. Take this, too,¡± he says, giving me a quiver with several arrows. ¡°They have rubber tips, can be used on normal targets and aren¡¯t lethal, you know. They¡¯re perfect for practicing.¡±


    I understand his concern about giving me arrows with real tips. After all, no one will be supervising my practice away from school. Nevertheless, I¡¯m speechless. It¡¯s a fantastic present. Bows like this are rare. I¡¯ve been wanting to buy one, but I¡¯ve never found anything like it. I¡¯m very happy knowing that my teacher is really satisfied with my progress in class. I thank him again and give him a hug.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to practice. You can be sure of that.¡± I leave his office and go out into the street.


    I can¡¯t wait to try out my new toy, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. I¡¯d forgotten that I promised my grandfather I¡¯d go by his shop today. I slide my book bag¡¯s strap over my shoulder; it hangs by my side at waist level. I slip the quiver on my back and fasten my bow to it. I probably look strange carrying all this stuff.


    I walk down the main avenue and catch the downtown train, sitting in the back of the car, where I rest my head on the side and doze off for a few minutes. The shaking of the train when it enters the trenches hiding the tracks downtown wakes me up. That short nap was long enough to dream about science classes, the creation of the world and all that blah-blah-blah. What a crock! But I realize there¡¯s a reason for this dream: I¡¯m going to see my grandfather to unravel more of the science he knows. It is rather different from what¡¯s taught in high school. I¡¯m tired of hearing about how the world was created by gods, that only they have the power to change it, that humans have no influence on the environment, that the elements are inanimate, not dynamic, and that controlling them is almost impossible ¨C none of which is true.


    At first, I had heard some individuals could modify their surrounding environment. They were able to control the field of energy surrounding their bodies and, from that, alter elements in nature. They were generally called ¡°warlocks¡± and, in the past, were hunted and punished for practicing control. One day, I decided to ask my grandfather, since he¡¯d travelled a lot and had learned things from other people and cultures; I knew he¡¯d have an answer. After really insisting with my questions, he confirmed that, in other places, these ¡°warlocks¡± do, in fact, exist, but this curious science has been prohibited in Acigam. Out there, they even have other names: shapers, pointers, or, simply, energy controllers. This is real science, what the rest of the world studies. After discovering the truth, I began to suspect that some things in Acigam were nothing more than tricks to control young people better, to keep questioning far from our minds. But, that¡¯s okay. I¡¯m lucky because I know someone who can show me other things.


    My grandfather asked me not to say anything to anyone, not even my mother. I agreed. Once, there¡¯d been a rumor at school that one of our classmates¡¯ father practiced ¡°magic¡±. A few weeks later, the boy disappeared and our teachers told us he¡¯d moved to another city. It was a very strange story. Some people even said the government had arrested the entire family and had probably put them to death. But you know how rumors at school are, don¡¯t you? Anyway, I decided to keep quiet, just to avoid problems. At the same time, I asked my grandfather to teach me everything.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    In his official profession, he¡¯s a very talented craftsman. He knows how to work with all sorts of materials. He makes beautiful furniture and decorative objects. His shop is always full and makes a good profit from what he sells. Nevertheless, it¡¯s not what he shows others that catches my attention. I like to learn what he does as a hobby, what he does in the shop¡¯s basement, hidden from curious eyes, particularly those of the government.


    When I arrive at his shop, it¡¯s almost closing time. My grandfather attends to his last shoppers with his customary consideration. As soon as they leave, we lock the doors.


    ¡°How¡¯s your archery coming along?¡±


    ¡°Today was our last day. My teacher gave me this so I can practice at home,¡± I answer, showing him the bow.


    ¡°It looks like an excellent weapon, Le.¡±


    Proud of my present, I nod in agreement, smiling.


    ¡°Leave your stuff here and come on,¡± he says, descending into the basement. ¡°We¡¯re going to learn something new today.¡±


    I can¡¯t wait to have new lessons. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve visited him to study. We don¡¯t always have time and space to practice. He closed his shop a little early just so he can teach me without rushing things. My grandfather always says we must be careful when we study real science.


    The regular guardsmen in the city are rather harsh, but, according to my grandfather, there are others called hushers who are worse. They¡¯re part of an elite army group, specialized in capturing warlocks. Their weapons cancel out all energy control, leaving those who practice it totally defenseless. They prowl about the city, including in the market, but they¡¯re always disguised. Obviously, their existence is a secret and my grandfather only knows because he has contacts. I¡¯ve never seen them; I have no idea who they are. My grandfather doesn¡¯t give me many details either. Sometimes I have the impression it¡¯s a story he made up to keep me frightened, to make sure I won¡¯t show anyone what we do.


    Over the years, I¡¯ve learned about the actual law that controls the world in his lessons. It deals with the energy found everywhere, even within us. There are eighteen types in all, taking the form of every one of the existing elements. Six are primary: Fire, Air, Light, Water, Earth and Darkness, and twelve secondary, originating from combinations of the six primary ones. Science not only studies how these energies work but also how to control them; this is what they consider ¡°magic¡± here in Acigam.


    My grandfather has become an expert in one of those forms of control: enchantments. It is an art that consists of organizing the intangible energies around ourselves and concentrating them in tangible things, like objects, weapons, or even our very own bodies. That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to learn: how to control energy in order to direct it at something. After a while, that object will be able to release the force concentrated there all at once. The results are beautiful.


    My first attempts were heating up small copper balls just by looking at them. For beginners like me, using the right materials makes things easier. Copper, for example, is an excellent recipient for energy. To learn, I watched my grandfather and tried to copy what he was doing. He has natural ability; he only needs to make very quick visual contact with the ball for it to start glowing and, then, burst into flames. He could set them on fire in a matter of seconds. Onn the other hand, I would get cross-eyed from looking at that blasted sphere so long and still nothing would happen. It took me months to even make them warm. It¡¯s not easy at all. It demands tremendous concentration. Your gaze must be fixed on your target in order to transfer the energy to the right place. Once I caught a rug on fire; I¡¯d shifted my eyes off the small ball for microseconds.


    Besides observation and concentration, you must understand and identify the elements around you. Air, humidity, heat, cold, sound. All carry energies that can be used to do an enchantment. Your senses must be acute to pick up the vibrations; after that, you use your sight to direct everything to the target.


    Today¡¯s lesson also involves small balls, but this time my goal is to freeze them.


    ¡°Freeze them?¡± I ask, startled. ¡°How am I going to do that if there¡¯s not even any water here?¡±


    ¡°By concentrating, Le. Try to find the energy source capable of freezing your target,¡± he responded, encouraging me.


    I sat next to the wooden table where the balls were. I put one of them in the center of the table and lean against the seat back. How would I start?


    I began by intently observing the small sphere. I look at its details, noticing my reflection on the curved surface. I can make out the scratches on its face and even some small cracks indicating the object¡¯s advanced age.


    Now I need to locate the energy source from which I¡¯ll find the cold needed to freeze it. The air is hot; it must be thirty degrees today. Where am I going to find the cold? I think for a few minutes and decide to imagine it''s the middle of winter, we¡¯re in an open, very cold place, full of snow¡­ a snow storm. I imagine the air getting thin and, breathing in deeply, I can feel the cold filling my lungs. Little by little, my skin gets goosebumps and I begin to shiver. I can even feel the cold air on my face. My mouth is dry and my parted lips seem to chap. I keep my gaze fixed on the sphere and release the frigid air as I exhale. I think it¡¯s carrying small snowflakes that envelop the little ball. After a few seconds, I notice an icy glaze covering the copper.


    ¡°I did it, Grandpa! I did it!¡± I shout while standing up.


    ¡°Careful, Le,¡± he warns, pointing at the table. ¡°You can¡¯t lose your concentration until you finish the enchantment.


    I look at the tabletop again and see a trail of ice beginning at the sphere that continues to the table¡¯s edge. My grandfather adds,


    ¡°Those final seconds are the difference between lighting a torch and catching your hands on fire.¡±


    I nod my head, showing I understand his message, and sit down to try again.


    ¡°And another thing, look at yourself,¡± he says, directing me to a small mirror on the wall. ¡°You¡¯re purple from the cold.¡±


    That¡¯s true. It looks like I¡¯ve been standing outside naked in the snow for hours. I grab a sweater he offers me and then go to the couch, where I sit down, all hunched up.


    ¡°You can¡¯t use your body as a conduit for the energy. It should go directly from the environment to the object. But that¡¯s okay. This is common for beginners. You¡¯ll soon figure it out.¡±


    Yeah, using my body as a conductor wasn¡¯t very bright, was it? Imagine if it had been an explosive enchantment? Thank God I¡¯ve never tried that. I wait a few minutes until I feel better and start practicing again. I keep at it until nightfall and make some progress. At least I didn¡¯t feel like a penguin after freezing a sphere.


    All the shops in the market should have closed by now and almost no one is in the streets. There¡¯s is a type of curfew. It¡¯s not too extreme, but if a soldier sees you in the city at night, he can stop you for questioning. Any careless reply results in problems, which is why I try not to stay downtown too late, but there was no way around it this time. Both my grandfather and I will have to go home after dark.


    I take my bag, new bow and the quiver full of arrows, and wait outside while my grandfather locks his shop. As soon as he finishes, we start off for the train station. On our way, we see very few people. Everything is quiet, rather different from during the day. The old buildings look frightening in the dark and the precarious lighting doesn¡¯t help at all. At least it¡¯s pretty at night. I can see the full moon easily this evening. It¡¯s so huge and so close to us it looks like I can touch it if I stretch out my arm. The weather is pleasant: somewhat warm with a fresh breeze. It couldn¡¯t be better.


    We keep on walking until we reach the main avenue, which is deserted. I stop briefly to tie my shoes. My laces have come undone, and my grandfather stands next to me, waiting. While I¡¯m crouching, I hear a noise from the left; it sounds like an explosion. Startled, I stand up, look toward the sound, trying to see what happened. I notice a little smoke in the distance and, suddenly, a siren goes off. What could it be?


    ¡°Come on,¡± my grandfather says, grabbing my arm.


    With the sudden movement and my shoelaces still untied, I trip and fall on the sidewalk. On the ground, I see people running, coming from the direction of the smoke.


    ¡°Go! Run!¡± one of them shouts.


    Just behind them, armed guards are shooting at them. I see bursts of fire whizzing by and halt, totally frozen. One of the fugitives stops running in the middle of the firefight, turns toward the soldiers and raises one of his hands. My eyes bug out when I see energy flowing around his arm. Flashes of red light slip and weave themselves together until they¡¯re concentrated in the palm of his hand, held high and outward. They form a luminous sphere seemingly made of fire. Everything happens very quickly, but my trained eyes can see the details of the lights until the sphere, now the size of a cantaloupe, is complete. He throws it and shouts, as if dissipating the energy with his voice.


    The sphere flies to where the guardsmen are and, upon striking the ground, there¡¯s a new, huge explosion. The bright light causes me to close my eyes and I turn my face as hot air hits it. After the impact, the group runs across the plaza; the troopers are on the ground, injured and shaken by the attack.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening, Grandpa?¡± I ask, frightened.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to get out of here before they arrive,¡± he says, pulling me up by the arm. ¡°Quickly.¡±


    ¡°They who?¡±


    ¡°The hushers.¡±


    Of course, the fugitives are warlocks. The hushers will come for them.


    ¡°We have to help them,¡± I say softly, pulling out my bow.


    ¡°Are you nuts?¡± he responds, irritated. ¡°There¡¯s no way to beat them; you have no idea. Put that away. We¡¯re getting out of here now!¡±


    I obey. We run to an alley and cross it. As soon as we get to another street, I hear a very loud, shrill hissing noise. I cover my ears with my hand, but it does no good. When the noise stops, there is only total silence. I talk to my grandfather but I can¡¯t even hear my own voice. With gestures, he points to the alley, telling me to hide. I keep looking at the street while I wait. My grandfather immediately gets right behind me.


    It stays totally quiet and, a few minutes later, something slips down the sidewalk, so fast I can¡¯t identify what it is. I pay closer attention and, when another one appears, I can see more details, despite its speed. It¡¯s a man, dressed in dark clothes, with a cape flapping behind him as he moves. Nevertheless, he doesn¡¯t seem to be running; he¡¯s levitating. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it. More of them move across the rooftops on the other side of the street and I¡¯m sure they¡¯re floating. I notice shadows above me and see others moving from one house to another. What¡¯s all of this? Could they be hushers? They seem more like monsters. And this deafness? Did they cause it?


    Flashes of light come from where the creatures have gone. They must be confronting the warlocks now. More light is discharged and some fugitives return, passing in front of us. I can see their expressions: they¡¯re terrified. The one on the left throws several spheres of energy some place out of sight. The explosion generates more light, but there¡¯s still no sound. Then they stop, trying to see if they¡¯ve hit anything.


    They look up and the one on the right launches some light rays. A tether comes from the direction he¡¯s thrown them and wraps around one of his arms. With his other arm, he tries to attack again, but nothing happens. It¡¯s as if his energy has been drained or canceled out. Holding the other end of the tether, a husher stands in front of them. His face is covered by a suit of black cloth and parts of his uniform are made up of rigid material with yellowish details: shoulders, waist, chest, forearms and boots.


    The man on the left points at the hooded figure and shoots four or five bursts of fire. The husher, with only one free hand, defends himself from the attacks, dissipating the energy between his fingers, which are covered by a black glove. While deflecting the volleys, he approaches the shooter. When he¡¯s close enough, he pulls a dagger from his belt and slashes the warlock¡¯s jugular. The wounded man falls to his knees, collapsing at the monster¡¯s feet. Blood flows from the open cut, forming a red pool under his body. The other warlock, paralyzed by the tether, begins to weep and makes small gestures, as if pleading for mercy, but the hooded man shows none. He pulls the tether, knocking his victim to the ground and stabs him as well.


    After pulling the dagger from the body, the husher stands up and turns his back toward me. He tilts his head to the side, as if he noticed something, and then turns completely around in my direction, facing the alley. Startled by his movement, I curl up, trying to keep him from seeing me. On his face, I see two yellow dots, shining from within the darkness of his hood; they¡¯re the creature¡¯s eyes. The man stays there for a few seconds until he¡¯s distracted by more hushers who arrive and gather up the bodies. After finishing, the first one looks back toward where we are again but the others call him as they jump to the city¡¯s rooftops. The killer does the same and disappears into the darkness of Acigam¡¯s sky.


    There¡¯s no sign of a fight where the warlocks were. It looks as if nothing happened there. I realize I can hear again when my grandfather calls me. However, the shock keeps me quiet, looking at that same spot.


    ¡°Le, let¡¯s go,¡± he says again. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here now.¡±


    He takes my hand and helps me stand up. I recover my senses, look into his face and fearfully ask,


    ¡°What¡¯s happening? Are they dead?¡±


    Seeing that there was no longer a way to hide anything from me, my grandfather says,


    ¡°We need to talk. I¡¯ll tell you all about the Warlocks¡¯ Guild and the rebellion.¡±

 Chapter 2 - The Woods

    Warlocks¡¯ Guild? Rebellion? Did I hear that right? The men killed were fighting against the government? How could something like that be happening here in Acigam, right under our noses? The city¡¯s just like it¡¯s always been; there¡¯s no sign of conflict. My grandfather is really going to have to a lot to explain, but not right now. What I just saw has left me shaken. My head can¡¯t deal with anything else today.


    I stay quiet all the way to the train. My grandfather said he¡¯d take me home but wouldn¡¯t go in. He doesn¡¯t want any problems with my mother. They haven¡¯t gotten along very well since my father died nine years ago. In the coach, I keep my head down the whole time, thinking about what happened. I recall the violence, how the warlocks were slain. But what I can¡¯t get out of my head is how those rebels controlled energy with such precision. That flaming ball in the plaza was fantastic. The visual effect of the warlock¡¯s technique was simply breathtaking. Now I can imagine the full potential of the science my grandfather has been teaching me. Warlocks have gone beyond simply transferring energy to little spheres. They use their power to fight.


    We get off at my neighborhood station and negotiate the last few blocks to the street on which I live. I walk in the road; my grandfather follows me. Neither of us says anything. I want to get home, take a bath, lie down and sleep. That way I might be able to process everything that has happened. Sincerely, I¡¯m not quite sure I really want to know about those rebels. It¡¯ll be a whole lot safer if I just mind my own business, like I¡¯ve done until now.


    After a few minutes, I arrive: home, sweet home. I clean my shoes on the doormat, open the door and see my mother sitting in her red armchair in the living room. She looks at me, furious:


    ¡°Where were you?¡±


    ¡°At school. I stayed late.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an idiot, Leran. Until now?¡± she asks, raising her voice while walking toward me.


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± I respond, without having much else to say.


    ¡°And that bow,¡± she asks, grabbing its shaft, turning me around as she yanks it.


    ¡°My teacher gave it to me, Mom. I told you I had practice today, remember?¡± I step back, forcing her to release her grip. ¡°He gave it to me because I¡¯m good and he wants me to practice.¡±


    I turn toward her again and see her look of distrust. This time, she¡¯s wrong, it¡¯s all true. She continues,


    ¡°You can only¡­¡± She immediately stops talking and looks at me in despair. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± she asks, pointing to my head.


    ¡°What¡¯s what?¡± I fire back, startled.


    ¡°Your ear,¡± she says. She moves closer and turns my face with her hands. ¡°My God! You¡¯re bleeding.¡±


    ¡°Bleeding?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Leran, please, tell me where you were.¡± Strangely, she begins to cry. I can¡¯t understand her reaction. It¡¯s just a little blood. I¡¯m okay, aren¡¯t I?


    At this point, my grandfather comes in and tries to calm her down.


    ¡°I can explain, Laura.¡±


    But I don¡¯t think that was a very good idea. Upon seeing him, she loses control:


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± she shrieks.


    ¡°Mom, he was with me. Calm down.¡±


    ¡°For the love of God, where were you?¡± she pleads, looking at my grandfather.


    I¡¯ve never seen my mother this upset; her voice is shaking. When she finishes speaking, she¡¯s short of breath and looks like she¡¯s about to faint. I run and hold her, making her sit on the couch. I begin to fan her face with my hand.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± I ask. ¡°Grandpa, get her some water. Fast.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want any,¡± she says. ¡°I need to speak with your grandfather alone. Please excuse us.¡±


    My mother is in no shape for any kind of conversation. She¡¯s gasping, her hands are cold. She looks like she¡¯s seen a ghost.


    ¡°Mom, you need to rest. We can talk tomorrow. How about it?¡± I suggest.


    ¡°Leran, go to your room. Now!¡± she yells, rebuffing my suggestion.


    She didn¡¯t give me any leeway at all. I grab my things and walk out of the room. I start up the stairs but stop halfway so I can listen to what they¡¯re saying. Her reaction was startling. I¡¯m sure this conversation will be much more serious than their normal fights.


    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± she asks. ¡°It was them, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Calm down, Laura. They didn¡¯t see us. We were coming home when some rebels appeared. They were being chased by the guard. We hid, but the silencing hit us.¡±


    I have the impression my mother knows about the rebellion too. Worse yet¡­ when she says ¡°they¡±, she¡¯s referring to the hushers. How does she know about them? And what does my grandfather mean when he says, ¡°the silencing hit us¡±? It can only be one thing: the hushers caused our deafness. That shrill hissing noise I heard seconds before losing my hearing is probably some weapon they use to momentarily leave their victims handicapped. But why, other than to make our ears bleed? I don¡¯t even have any aftereffects from it; I can hear what they¡¯re saying in the living room perfectly.


    And they keep on talking:


    ¡°Why were you with him downtown so late, Bretor?


    ¡°He came to visit me at the shop and stayed to help in the basement. Time slipped away from us.¡±


    That was a good excuse but she wasn¡¯t buying it.


    ¡°Leran helping you? Doing what? Nailing a leg onto a table?¡± Her question was ironic. ¡°He doesn¡¯t lift a finger here at home to help me with anything.¡±


    Well, that¡¯s not exactly true but¡­ And she continues.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe your straight face, Bretor. You have the gall to lie to me in my own home. I know you¡¯re teaching him. I¡¯ve noticed his behavior, more and more enclosed in a parallel world, trying to find those energies you talk about so much. I¡¯m begging you,¡± her voice changes, imploring, the request of a desperate mother, ¡°stop that right now.¡±


    I¡¯m really surprised. She also knows what my grandfather does, knows about the enchantments. I thought Grandpa had asked me not to tell my mother about his classes just because they didn¡¯t get along well, but there¡¯s more to it than that. My grandfather knew what her reaction would be. He wanted to avoid a problem like this.


    ¡°I have no choice, Laura. He needs to know¡­¡±


    ¡°No!¡± she shrieked, interrupting him before starting to cry again. ¡°No, no¡­ he doesn¡¯t. He needs to stay safe, far from all of that, far from those goddamn warlocks, far from you. Bretor, I forbid you from seeing Leran again. Forbid you! Get out of here!¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°That¡¯s not how things work. Leran¡¯s almost an adult, a grown man. He has his own interests. He already knows what he needs. And there¡¯s more. You can¡¯t protect him from this. He¡¯s running out of time, Laura. You know that. If he doesn¡¯t learn now, he¡¯ll have no chance of being safe out there.¡±


    I hear the door slam and know my grandfather¡¯s left. I bend my body forward a little and see my mother sitting on the living room floor, hugging one of the sofa¡¯s striped pillows. She¡¯s crying compulsively. I sit down and think about what I ought to do. I can¡¯t go to her now, console her. She¡¯d know I heard everything. My hands are tied. I decide to go to my room and sleep. Tomorrow I¡¯ll think about how to deal with this situation.


    I stand up, go down the hall and meet my sister Luana, who has just come out of her room.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Le?¡± She¡¯s sleepy, her face is puffy. The argument must have woken her up. Could she have heard something?


    ¡°Nothing. Just Mom and Grandpa arguing again,¡± I reply.


    Fortunately, they fight so often that Lua has no reason to doubt me.


    ¡°Nobody needs that, do they? What was it this time?¡±


    ¡°You know. They can¡¯t stand the sight of each other. Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I say, trying to end the conversation.


    ¡°Uh, okay. Tell me all about it tomorrow. Right now, I just want to get back to sleep.¡± She steps toward me to give me a peck on the cheek but complains,


    ¡°Eww, Le! You¡¯re disgusting. Go take a bath!¡±


    ¡°Good night to you, too, Lua,¡± I say and smile.


    After giving me that earful, Luana enters her room and shuts the door. She must really be sleepy. She didn¡¯t even notice the blood in my ear. It¡¯s better that way. Otherwise, I¡¯d have to make up a whole lot of excuses. She¡¯s just like my mother in the worrying department. Even though she¡¯s two years younger, she¡¯s often the voice of reason here. And right now, she¡¯s right; I do need a bath.


    I go to my room and start putting my things away: I stow my bag in the closet, lean the bow and quiver in a corner, and take off my dirty clothes, putting them in the hamper to be washed. Then I get ready for a bath. I find my pajamas still lying on the floor and grab a towel from the dresser before heading to the bathroom. I hang everything on hooks and turn on the shower¡­ Ah¡­ hot. That¡¯s great. I spend a couple of minutes under the water thinking about everything that¡¯s happened. The clash downtown, the rebellion, my mother¡¯s despair knowing that I¡¯m learning about energy and my grandfather¡¯s final words, which, summing things up, sent the following message: my time is running out and I need to learn now in order to be safe. Well, it makes no sense whatsoever. Maybe he wants me to become a rebel. We¡¯re probably on the verge of a civil war in Acigam, which is why learning how to do enchantments can keep me safe, even help me protect my family. But, even so, it¡¯s hard to believe there will be such a huge conflict¡­ and everything was going so well this morning.


    If this were true, someone would have already said something. Somebody at high school, a teacher, a neighbor, somebody, anybody. How long have those battles been going on? And why does Acigam¡¯s government hate the warlocks so much? There¡¯s no telling. I could spend hours wasting water in this shower without clearing up my doubts.


    I get out of the shower, dry off, put my pajamas on and lie down, hoping this day will end soon. But it¡¯s not that easy. The hours drag by and my eyes just won¡¯t shut. I twist and turn, unable to find a comfortable position. I¡¯m exhausted, but there¡¯s no going to sleep. After trying and trying, I finally give up.


    I go to the window, one of my favorite spots, and look out into the night. I see the moon. It¡¯s huge. From here in my room, it¡¯s as beautiful as the one I saw in the plaza. The trees sway gently in the breeze. I observe the flowers in the garden and the white fence in tones of dark blue, illuminated only by the moon. In the middle of the olive trees that make up a small wooded area near our house there¡¯s another source of light. It¡¯s green, very bright. I try to see what it is, but it disappears.


    I keep watching the woods and, in the crest of the trees, I see an enormous owl. His eyes stand out in the darkness. Just below him, in the same tree, there¡¯s a small nest. While watching it, I see the green light appear again in another part of the woods. It¡¯s closer now. Little by little, the glowing spot takes the form of a sphere and, within it, a radiant force moves slowly. Could this be the woods¡¯ energy? I can finally see the energy¡¯s source. Maybe I could transfer it to a small copper ball if I were closer.


    I leave the window and look for the pants I wore during the day. The spheres I used to practice at my grandfather¡¯s shop are in my pocket. I start toward the door of my room and, on the way, I spy my bow leaning against the wall. I grab it and the arrows, just as a precaution. I don¡¯t even change clothes. I depart in my pajamas, barefooted, with the quiver on my back. I open the door and look down the hall, making sure everybody¡¯s asleep. I go down the stairs slowly to avoid even the slightest creak. I proceed through the living room where the pillow is lying on the floor.


    The night is still warm and pleasant. That¡¯s good; I won¡¯t get cold. I enter the garden, pass through the fence and advance toward that woods. I feel the cold grass between my toes while looking for the light. The owl is still in the tree top. I have the clear impression it¡¯s watching me and following my movements with its head. Its location indicates that I¡¯m in the right place, but the light¡¯s no longer there. I enter the woods and walk among the trees trying to find the energy source again. After a few minutes, I begin to think I¡¯m wasting my time.


    I turn around and start back to the house. However, when I¡¯m almost exiting the woods, I hear a slight noise, like the rustling of the wind. I turn my head and there¡¯s the green sphere; it¡¯s even brighter than before. It¡¯s beautiful. I walk a few meters, trying to get nearer to the light and close my eyes to breath in deeply, feeling all the power that it¡¯s radiating.


    I move even closer and, without looking away, squat down to place a small copper ball on the ground. I sit in from of it and concentrate, focusing my eyes on the copper, pulling the green energy to it; I let my breathing dictate the rhythm. Slowly, the force moves toward the ball. Every beam of light coming from the large sphere goes straight into the metal in front of me. More incandescent beams are gradually being released and the green sphere becomes a small dot of light before completely disappearing.


    The copper is now glowing with a bright, almost fluorescent green. I did it. I¡¯ve pulled off a perfect enchantment. I stand up and wait for what will happen anxiously. After a few seconds, the ball explodes and releases all its energy in the form of luminous green rings. The impact of the air knocks me backward and shakes the trees, making the owl dart from the treetop, frightened. I stand up and start out again, pleased.


    As I¡¯m leaving the woods, I hear a noise and immediately stop. It¡¯s as if something were moving through the trees. It comes first from the right. I pull out the bow, arming it with an arrow and point in the direction of the sound. Now I hear it on the left, too. I look there and fire. The arrow disappears in the foliage. I¡¯ve hit nothing but, perhaps, some branches. I look around and see no one, but the noise persists. The bushes in front of me stir and I prepare another arrow. It could be an animal. Perhaps I can scare it with another shot. I walk backwards and keep my eye on the thicket. I keep moving until the noise stops. It¡¯s now behind me, as if something were coming rapidly in my direction. With a fright, I run to escape the woods immediately, but a shrill noise disorients me:


    ¡°Sssssshhhhhhhhh.¡±


    My ears hurt. I drop my bow to cover them. I can¡¯t hear anything. I feel my hands getting wet and, when I look, I see they¡¯re covered in blood. I begin to feel faint; my head is heavy. I glance around and see the trees still swaying. The lack of sound keeps me from identifying where they will come from. It¡¯s the hushers; they¡¯re here for me. That energy was a trap and, now that they¡¯ve seen me practice magic, I¡¯ll be killed just like the warlocks downtown.


    I try to keep running, but my balance has been affected. I take a few steps and then fall. I turn face up and take a deep breath, trying to regain control. As soon as I twist my head to the side, I see someone coming from the bushes: black clothes, head and cape. On his face, I only see shining eyes, like those of the owl in the pitch black. I try to stand up and run, but I¡¯m caught by a cord that twists around my ankles, causing me to fall face forward.


    My eyes fill with tears; I know what will happen. I¡¯ll be slain by a pitiless monster. I still try to crawl using my hands. As soon as I move a few centimeters, I¡¯m pulled back several meters. My fingers claw the dirt leaving a trail of desperation. I try to cry out for help, but my voice doesn¡¯t come out; no one will hear me. It¡¯s the effect of the hushing.


    I know the husher is behind me. He grabs me by my arm and turns me over to face him. I see his countenance. He¡¯s not a man, as I had imagined downtown. He¡¯s some kind of monster with enormous teeth. His face is that of an animal, a mixture of several of them. And his yellow eyes are cruel. He is in total control of the situation.


    When he looks at me, he tilts his head to the side and shows his teeth, as if smiling at me. He can see my expression of terror and seems to delight in it. The creature stoops down and moves his face closer to mine, letting me smell the horrid odor exuding from his mouth. I could try to get him off me, punch him, try to knock him down, but I don¡¯t have the strength for anything, not even to lift my arm.


    My eyes bulge when I see him pull out a dagger. My breathing involuntarily speeds up, my heart rate explodes and I feel a chill run down my spine. Could this be what you feel just before dying? He licks the blade with his long tongue, demonstrating how thoroughly he¡¯s enjoying this moment, smiles again and, in a brusque movement, jams the weapon into my chest.

 Chapter 3 - Old Town

    ¡°Ahhhh!¡±


    I¡¯m in a cold sweat, gasping for air, frightened. While my heart¡¯s racing I desperately look for the husher, the monster who was attacking me. I twist my head around, look up and down. He isn¡¯t here. It¡¯s just my room: a window, a white dresser and my bow leaning against the wall in the corner. A nightmare. It was just a dream, but one so real that it took me a while to realize I¡¯m okay. I sit on the edge of my bed, breathe in deeply, calm my heart beat down, dry the sweat off. It¡¯s still early morning. I need to rest.


    I get back under the covers and bury my head. I don¡¯t want anything disturbing my sleep. I close my eyes and manage to relax for a few minutes before my mind is invaded by images of the energy spheres, flashes of light, lethal daggers and bloodbaths. It¡¯s no use. I can¡¯t sleep. I stay in bed with my eyes open while disconnected thoughts inundate my consciousness. They keep me awake for the rest of the night. I stay there until I spot the sunlight streaming through my semi-opened Venetian blinds.


    Despite being calmer, an image still haunts my memory: the yellow gaze of the creature who stabbed me. I recall the pleasure he felt when I fell, his cold-heartedness at taking my life. Only a monster could have committed that cruel of an atrocity and smiled about it.


    At the very least, tonight helped me realize I need to talk with my grandfather as soon as possible. It¡¯s the only way to end this agony. But I can¡¯t see him without speaking with my mother first, which is what I¡¯m going to do right now.


    I get out of bed and don¡¯t even bother making it. I wash my face quickly and grab something comfortable to wear: a white t-shirt, brown slacks and tennis shoes. I pick up my backpack and stuff a sweater into it; the temperature often drops quickly here. I leave my room and descend the stairs. I¡¯ll talk to Mom and then visit my grandfather at his shop downtown. I go straight to the kitchen and see Luana there, eating breakfast:


    ¡°Where¡¯s Mom?¡± I ask.


    ¡°She left really early, didn¡¯t say where she was going.¡±


    That¡¯s strange. She needs to explain why she was so terrified when she saw me yesterday, talk about what frightened her and what she knows about the rebellion. Even if she forbids me from seeing my grandfather, studying enchantments, or just leaving the house, I need to confront her. But since she isn¡¯t here, I¡¯ll go directly to my other option.


    ¡°Le?¡± I notice Lua calling me, ¡°Pay attention.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry. I was thinking about something.¡±


    ¡°You look terrible. Didn¡¯t you sleep well?¡±


    ¡°No, I had a strange nightmare¡­¡± I reply.


    ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°Nothing really. Just the tests I¡¯ve got coming up.¡±


    ¡°But haven¡¯t you already finished them?¡±


    I have, in fact. That¡¯s the best excuse I could come up with to avoid any further questions.


    ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve got a couple more.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s too bad. Sit down and eat something,¡± she says, pointing to the chair. ¡°Who knows? It might make you feel better.¡±


    I¡¯m famished. I missed supper yesterday because of everything that happened. Accepting my sister¡¯s invitation, I put my backpack on the floor and sit at the table. I smear a couple of slices of bread with apricot jam. They look delicious. I cram them into my mouth one by one. I eat so fast that, in the end, I don¡¯t even taste anything.


    ¡°Good heavens, Leran. Eat right.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I respond with my mouth full.


    ¡°Jeez!¡± she thunders and gets up from the table. At least now I can eat in peace.


    It¡¯s time for cereal. I throw a fistful into a bowl and drench it in milk. I spot some fruit by the sink and decide to enhance my dish. I slice bananas, strawberries and an apple on top of the cereal. Now I¡¯m set. It¡¯s delicious. With each spoonful, I fill my mouth as well as my ravenous stomach with a flavorful mix. I go to the living room where I find Luana, reading one of her books.


    ¡°Did you finish devouring your prey, you repulsive creature?¡± she asks ironically.


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± I respond smiling. I take my key and approach the door.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°I need to talk with Grandpa.¡±


    ¡°That sounds right. You said they had a fight last night, didn¡¯t you? That must be why Mom was in such a foul mood this morning. Good luck with that.¡±


    I can imagine how she woke up. But I have no idea where she went. Could she have gone to my grandfather¡¯s? In that case, going there would be crazy. A conversation with all three of us at the same time could make things much worse. But, you know what? I don¡¯t care. After all, I¡¯m the one being played. They owe me some explanations and I¡¯m going to get them.


    I follow the dirt road to the train station. When I arrive, I see there¡¯s less movement than usual; the steel entrance doors are closed. I spot trains parked a few meters away and realize I¡¯m going to have problems getting downtown today. This is the last station on the line. The engines are left there when they aren¡¯t being used. I soon notice a paper sign stuck to the fence confirming my fears. It advises that Saturday morning ¨C all morning ¨C there will be maintenance on the rails. That¡¯s just great!


    Acigam has these problems. Everything is so precarious and rundown that basic services like transportation, education and healthcare are customarily inadequate. My grandfather says that if we compare the structures downtown ¨C the best maintained place we have ¨C with those of other cities, Acigam is nothing more than a village, even with its tens of thousands of inhabitants. The cobblestone streets, the brick stores and the steam locomotives that characterize our city give it a rather rundown air instead of a classic tone.


    This isn¡¯t the first time the train line, our only means of transportation between downtown and where I live in the Oliveiras District, has been shut down like this. Because it¡¯s a narrow city, built at the foot of the mountains, Acigam¡¯s railroad crosses it from east to west. When the train¡¯s out, no one has transportation. Fortunately, it¡¯s only for the morning. For someone who¡¯s seen this go on for weeks, a couple of hours is a piece of cake. Since I have no intention of waiting, my only option is to walk. If everything works out, I can catch the train back. It¡¯s just as well that I woke up early. It¡¯s a long way downtown. It¡¯ll take me almost two hours on foot, if I walk quickly. I¡¯d get there in forty minutes by train, but that¡¯s not a problem. I¡¯ve got water in my backpack.


    Walking isn¡¯t the hardest part. The Old Town, one of Acigam¡¯s most abandoned places, is on my route. It¡¯s the refuge of the very poor who don¡¯t have their own businesses and truly depend on the government¡¯s inefficient social policies. Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s not a very appealing place for a stroll.


    On my way, I study the closely packed houses, built one on top of the other. They¡¯re simple structures, often unfinished, without brickwork. Everything looks improvised. In the streets, poorly-dressed, mistreated people pass by piles of garbage. Barefoot children play on the dirty terrain. The ill, in turn, have their destiny mapped out for them by the lack of doctors and hospitals. Hunger and misery are visible everywhere.


    Every time I see this, I realize how lucky I am. But I also feel guilty for having eaten a feast at breakfast while these people beg for crumbs. That¡¯s reality for most of Acigam¡¯s population: poor families who do what they can to survive.


    If I lived like that, I¡¯d have more reasons to rebel against the government, even more than the warlocks do. However, when you have to struggle just to eat, the will to fight for freedom takes second place. The struggle for your rights only occurs when basic needs are fulfilled, which is far from happening here.


    Thinking about the huge social differences existing in Acigam, I¡¯m able to sort some things out. I can now understand some of the reasons the warlocks would be fomenting this rebellion. Acigam has gone through important changes in the last few decades that have taken autonomy away from the more independent social classes, like that of merchants, for example.


    One of them, probably the most significant, was closing the borders more than fifteen years ago. Since then, it has been expressly prohibited for any resident of Acigam to leave the city or to receive anything from outside. At that time, the government claimed it was protecting its citizens from external threats. Nevertheless, everyone knows that¡¯s a lie. I¡¯ve lived practically my entire life in this situation and I can¡¯t remember how things were before they were closed. As for those who¡¯ve had the opportunity to travel outside, that prohibition must have been particularly unsettling, principally for the merchants who used to travel frequently to trade goods and do business.


    My grandfather has always told me stories about his trips, even how he had his first contact with enchantments. He learned everything out there, but, with the borders being closed, that was interrupted. Who would have traveled to other cities more than the merchants? No one. The rest of the population was never in a position for that or simply didn¡¯t have any interest in doing so. Knowledge of the science of energy must permeate Acigam¡¯s merchant class.


    Another interesting fact is that my grandfather has told me countless times how closing the borders affected his work. He always says he made more money when he could export furniture and buy cheaper materials from outside suppliers. How many merchants are in the same situation? How many remember this time of abundance, when they made more money? Could this conflict have a financial motive behind it? That theory makes a lot of sense to me.


    The merchant sector is strong in Acigam, but it isn¡¯t even close in size to the great mass of the hungry and unemployed, like what I see here in the Old Town. They¡¯re the real victims of the brainwashing in our schools. The fact that we¡¯re isolated from the world, prisoners within these walls, doesn¡¯t bother them. After all, none of them ever had the opportunity to see anything out there. They don¡¯t seem to want to change things. In truth, they don¡¯t even know things could be different¡­ but I do. That mediocrity is not for me.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Despite the financial question being a strong motive for the merchants to rebel, what bothers me the most is how the government controls our lives. I want to travel the world and see new things. I have no idea what it¡¯s like out there; if it¡¯s large or small or beautiful. How many cities are there? How many people? Locked in here, there¡¯s no way of knowing. Besides, I¡¯m already seventeen; I¡¯m almost out of school and my prospects aren¡¯t the least bit exciting. I¡¯ll probably sell furniture with my grandfather for the rest of my life, or work in another store in the market place, one belonging to a friend of the family. Or worse yet, I¡¯ll join Acigam¡¯s army and help the government hunt down and crush those who want something different for their lives. Whatever the case, I¡¯ll need to study in hiding like my grandfather does in order to satiate my hunger for knowledge and maintain my mental health. This future is neither interesting nor can I imagine myself living it. I want much more than all of this. I¡¯m wasting my potential in this system. But what can I change? Join the rebellion and risk my life? If I die, I won¡¯t even have a future, will I?


    After crossing the Old Town, I¡¯m almost at my grandfather¡¯s shop; I just need to go through the main plaza. Unlike last night, today I can spend a few minutes admiring the place. I take advantage of the stone benches there to sit down and drink a little water. While resting, I observe the great white stone outdoor theater with its details sculpted in curved lines that remind me of the blowing wind. This is undoubtedly a magnificent structure. Great events have taken place here and it is where the government makes its official pronouncements. Whenever this happens, the plaza is filled with guards, in part because the army¡¯s main base is just a few streets away.


    I can also see the Government Palace ¨C the region¡¯s tallest and best-preserved building ¨C from here. One of the plaza¡¯s streets goes directly to the gates of Marble Villa, the district where all the government¡¯s ministers and other important people live. You¡¯ve got to jump through a lot of hoops to enter the Villa. I visited it once during a school field trip. I remember the luxury the houses revealed on their fa?ades. The stone used on the houses¡¯ exteriors gives the place its name.


    There is yet another stone sculpture in the plaza, though it is clearly not as pleasant as the outdoor theater. It¡¯s the statue of Acigam¡¯s political leader, king Evandro Cadorcia. More than three meters in height, it stands on a base that¡¯s as tall as I am. The only way we can look at it is from the ground up. It attempts to convey the government¡¯s power and strength to the people by using its size and the image of our leader.


    Everyone says the statue is exceptionally perfect; I can¡¯t disagree. Cadorcia stands upright on the stone base, holding a sword in his right hand and supporting a shield exhibiting Acigam¡¯s coat of arms etched in high relief with the other. He¡¯s wearing a suit of armor without all its pieces. This leaves his hands, arms and face visible. There is a refined crown on his head. On his back, he sports a large cape made in waves and curves, imitating the fabric¡¯s natural movement. It¡¯s all very well done. On his face, you can even see ridges representing the whiskers of his beard and his long hair. His broad nose, square chin and very deep eyes are also well detailed traits.


    They say the statue is an excellent depiction of the king; nevertheless, I¡¯ve never seen him so I can¡¯t really tell. The truth is that people know virtually nothing about the royal family. We¡¯re aware that Cadorcia married a commoner before assuming the throne, an important way to gain approval from other sectors of the city. But, like the king, the queen rarely shows her face. They always send representatives to official events. Because of this, images of Evandro are exhibited about the city for its residents to remember who governs them.


    After resting for a few minutes, I leave the plaza and continue on my way to the market. There¡¯s a lot of activity today. Saturday is always the day people with more purchasing power spend time downtown. My grandfather¡¯s shop should be full. He might not even have time to talk to me. I¡¯ll probably have to wait until his customers leave; the content of our discussion requires discretion. As soon as I approach his shop, I notice the doors are shut. A small sign hung on the inside of the glass window says ¡°closed¡±.


    Didn¡¯t my grandfather come to work? That¡¯s strange. Something must have happened for him not to show up today of all days, when there¡¯s so much movement. I go to the store next door, a tailor shop, and enter it, looking for its owner, Alb Pinmur, an elderly man who¡¯s even older than Grandpa. Helpers scurry from one side to the other while trying to assist customers. Despite my questions, no one pays enough attention to me to indicate where the person I¡¯m looking for is. A woman, thinking I want to buy something, stops and speaks politely with me. As soon as she discovers that I only want information, her smile disappears; she points to the back of the shop, wanting me to leave as soon as possible so she can do her job.


    I go where she indicates hoping to find Alb and, when I step through the curtain separating the front of the store from the work area, I see him bent over, sticking pins in a customer¡¯s pant cuff. I say his name and he looks at me over the glasses stuck on the tip of his nose; he then asks me to hold on for a few minutes. I leave and sit down outside to wait. The merchants in the market generally treat me very well because I¡¯m Bretor Yandel¡¯s grandson. My grandfather has many friends and is very well liked, which even helps me get discounts.


    While I wait, I observe hustle and bustle in the shop. There are people trying on clothes, taking measurements, and cloth is flying about everywhere. Shambles. Alb is so caught up in his work that he walks right by without seeing me.


    ¡°Mr. Pinmur,¡± I call out.


    ¡°What?¡± he says, looking at me, squinting his eyes as if trying to remember something. I have the impression he¡¯s forgotten my name again. Memory is not one of Mr. Pinmur¡¯s strong points.


    ¡°Leran,¡± I remind him.


    ¡°Why, of course, my boy. It¡¯s just that, well, it¡¯s crazy here today.¡±


    ¡°I can see that,¡± I confirm, looking about.


    ¡°Can I help you with something?¡± he asks me attentively.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry; it¡¯s quick. I was wondering if you¡¯d seen my grandfather.¡±


    Alb scratches his head, trying to find some wisp of a memory. At this point, I wonder if I¡¯ve sought out the right person. He looks at me as if he couldn¡¯t help me.


    ¡°It¡¯s no problem, Mr. Pinmur. Thanks just the same.¡± I turn around and head out of his shop.


    ¡°Wait,¡± he shouts, ¡°I did see him. We had coffee together this morning.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I inquire. ¡°His shop¡¯s closed.¡±


    ¡°Hum,¡± he scratches his head again. ¡°Could it have been yesterday?¡±


    My eyes roll upward involuntarily and I turn my head, sighing. I¡¯ve run out of patience.


    ¡°It¡¯s all right, Mr. Pinmur. No problem. I don¡¯t think he came today,¡± I say and start out again.


    ¡°Yes, it was today!¡± he shouts. ¡°Have you tried the back door?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I answer, surprised. ¡°Why?¡±


    Alb comes closer and whispers, as if revealing a secret.


    ¡°He said he wasn¡¯t going to open today because he was expecting some people for a meeting.¡±


    That¡¯s strange ¨Cclosing his store on a Saturday to have a meeting with some friends? All right, Alb didn¡¯t say friends; he said people. Who could they be? I thank him for the information and leave pensively. Back in the street, I see more individuals, a clear sign that there will be much more movement by the end of the day. This also shows that the supposed rebellion doesn¡¯t really affect anything in people¡¯s lives, at least for now. Everything is like it¡¯s always been.


    I go to the back of the furniture store and find the door unlocked. Alb was right. I don¡¯t see anyone and everything is turned off. The basement light illuminates the stairs; my grandfather must be there. As I stared to descend, I hear voices and realize he¡¯s already begun his gathering.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t Simus coming?¡± asks an older-looking man.


    ¡°He should be getting here any time now. I left the backdoor open for him,¡± my grandfather responds.


    Right then, I hear the door open and quickly hide behind an old wardrobe on display near the stairs. It¡¯s a much younger man than my grandfather. He must be the Simus they¡¯re talking about. He locks the door and descends, passing right in front of me.


    ¡°You¡¯re finally here, Simus,¡± says another voice. This time, it¡¯s a woman.


    I go back to where I was by the stairs and lean forward to hear better.


    ¡°So, why did you call us here, Bretor?¡± This must be Simus¡¯ voice.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re aware of it, but Galek was killed last night,¡± my grandfather says.


    Who¡¯s Galek? Could he be referring to one of the warlocks who were slain?


    ¡°Impossible,¡± the woman snaps back. ¡°He¡¯s one of our most powerful.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, it¡¯s true. I saw everything. He and another man, who I couldn¡¯t identify. Both were killed by the husher who uses daggers.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why Sandra asked me this morning if I¡¯d seen him. He didn¡¯t come home last night,¡± Simus says.


    ¡°We have to let Sandra know about her husband¡¯s death,¡± the woman concludes.


    Simus agrees. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to her later today. It¡¯s going to be a difficult conversation.¡±


    ¡°And you, Bretor. Didn¡¯t you try to help them? Did you just watch while they killed them?¡± the man asks indignantly.


    ¡°Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t do anything, Babo. My grandson was with me and¡­¡± my grandfather is saying when Simus interrupts him.


    ¡°Did he see everything?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we were struck by the silencing and Le was terrified. I couldn¡¯t expose our position, or there would have been four deaths instead of two. Besides, being silenced, it was impossible to do an enchantment strong enough to take down the enemy. Everything happened so quickly.¡±


    ¡°How many were there?¡±


    ¡°More than five.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Babo askes, stunned.


    ¡°It was a larger group than normal,¡± my grandfather explains.


    ¡°They probably thought they needed to send more men to capture Galek,¡± Simus concludes.


    ¡°And how many warlocks were there?¡± a woman asks.


    ¡°I saw five of them running through the plaza when the hushers got there. I don¡¯t know if they¡¯re alive.¡±


    Things are now starting to fit together. My grandfather is part of all this. He¡¯s a member of the Guild.


    Simus immediately asks,


    ¡°Is Galek the only one you recognized?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I saw him attacking the throwing bombs at soldiers in the plaza just before confronting the husher.¡±


    ¡°We have to find the three that were with them, discover what happened,¡± the woman says.


    ¡°If they¡¯re still alive,¡± Babo adds.


    Considering how many hushers we saw, that¡¯s probably not the case. It seems the warlocks are bearing the brunt of these confrontations. My grandfather even said the hushing would keep them from executing stronger enchantments. That must be the government¡¯s biggest advantage: a weapon capable of affecting the control of energy. I hadn¡¯t noticed, but the man who threw the flaming ball at the police was the same one who was killed first in front of the alley. Then, under the effect of the silencing, his attacks were much weaker; the husher repelled them easily. Poor Galek.


    ¡°What do we do now?¡± she asked.


    ¡°The fighting is getting more and more frequent and we¡¯ve lost a lot of people,¡± Simus says.


    ¡°If we¡¯re going to keep this up, we need to do something now,¡± Babo says.


    ¡°Yes, but many people will have to rejoin the cause,¡± my grandfather says.


    ¡°I think we need to take a vote. If we decide to do this for keeps, we¡¯ll have to choose a new leader,¡± Simus suggests. ¡°You¡¯d be ideal for this, Bretor.¡±


    My grandfather leading a rebellion? That¡¯s just too weird. I don¡¯t really like these conversations I¡¯ve been hearing lately.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting old, Simus. A younger leader would be better.¡±


    ¡°But everyone who respected Caio will trust you.¡±


    And, with that phrase, my heart starts pounding. Caio? My father? I¡¯m so startled I take a step backwards and stumble into the wardrobe. With the impact, it rocks and emits a low creak. I quickly grab the piece of furniture to stop its movement and, with that, I don¡¯t notice what¡¯s happening down there. They stop talking. I hear steps on the stairs and run back behind the wardrobe.


    ¡°Well, we ought to be going,¡± says the woman, now on the same floor I am.


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll do what we¡¯ve decided,¡± my grandfather says.


    Damn! I was so surprised to hear them mention my father that I didn¡¯t pay attention to how the conversation ended.


    ¡°Yes, as quickly as possible,¡± Babo says.


    I keep looking, hidden, and wait for them to leave. But when they approach the door, Simus asks:


    ¡°And you grandson? What will you do now that he¡¯s seen everything?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet,¡± my grandfather answers. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll tell him the truth.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    Simus, who is at the rear of the group, still far from the door, turns around and walks toward the wardrobe.


    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± he says before pulling the piece of furniture aside, revealing me to everyone.

 Chapter 4 - Father

    ¡°Le?¡± my grandfather asks, surprised. ¡°What are you doing here? You just about scared us to death. We heard a noise and thought it was a spy.¡±


    ¡°But isn¡¯t he?¡± the woman asks ironically.


    They all surround me, demanding explanations. That was all I needed¡­ I stand up and shout:


    ¡°You can stop this now! I¡¯m not the one who needs to explain things! What¡¯s my father got to do with this? I want to know right now!¡±


    Everyone is surprised by my reaction and steps back.


    ¡°You can all go now,¡± my grandfather says. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of this.


    After agreeing, they leave the shop. Through the window, I see them mixing in with the crowd.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to explain everything to me now, aren¡¯t you?¡± I insist, still angry.


    ¡°I will, but first tell me how you knew I was here if the shop was closed.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Pinmur. He told me to try the back door.¡± My grandfather shook his head and sighed.


    ¡°Ah, Alb¡­ He remembered the door and forgot I asked him not to say anything to anybody. I need to be more careful when I talk to him.¡±


    ¡°Is he one of you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but he doesn¡¯t participate in many of our meetings, for obvious reasons.¡±


    Really, Alb Pinmur is a little too scatterbrained to be involved in a movement like this.


    ¡°I understand. You can start by explaining my dad¡¯s involvement,¡± I demand.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go downstairs. I¡¯ll fix some tea.¡±


    I go while my grandfather prepares the tea. He comes a few minutes later and finds me pacing from side to side, visibly upset.


    ¡°It¡¯d be better if you sat down.¡±


    He gives me a cup of tea and I sit at the table, resting my elbows on the top.


    ¡°You can start now,¡± I declare, drumming my fingers on the wood.


    ¡°Before getting to your father¡¯s involvement with what¡¯s happening today in Acigam, you need to understand a little about the life he led up to the day he died.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± I respond impatiently, banging my fingers faster.


    He begins.


    ¡°Your father was a warlock like me, specialized in enchantments. He learned while travelling with me about the world and became an expert at concentrating heat energy. He even used them making furniture, when he was working with iron or steel. He learned everything very young and, when he became an adult, he was already as good as I was. Maybe better.¡±


    As incredible as this might seem, it doesn¡¯t surprise me. After all, if my grandfather is teaching me about control, it¡¯s obvious he would have taught him too.


    ¡°Even after he married your mom, he traveled to keep up our store¡¯s business. I¡¯d stay in Acigam while Caio took our merchandise to customers in other cities. It was just after his last trip some fifteen years ago that the government closed the border and prohibited free passage. Back then, the merchants were very unhappy with the measure, but they thought it¡¯d be something temporary. Luana was born a little after that. This made your father give up on his trips to help Laura at home,¡± My grandfather stopped talking and sat in front of me to drink a little tea.


    ¡°The problem is that the borders have remained closed, up to now,¡± I say, while he¡¯s drinking.


    My grandfather takes another sip and puts his cup on the saucer before continuing with his explanation.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. And soon everyone realized the situation wouldn¡¯t get better if we didn¡¯t do something. That¡¯s how the Guild came into being. It was nothing less than a secret movement by the merchant class against the city¡¯s government. People were meeting to find ways out of this situation and, as a distraction, they used the opportunity to trade knowledge about control, things they¡¯d learned outside the city. Your father and I were invited to join the group.¡±


    Unlike today, talking about magic apparently wasn¡¯t taboo a few years ago.


    ¡°But weren¡¯t you hounded for practicing control?¡± I ask.


    ¡°We did everything secretly. If the government had known a group was meeting to question their actions, we¡¯d have had far more problems than we could deal with. Acigam has always preached an anti-magic doctrine, but that wasn¡¯t their focus back then, nor was it ours.


    It now makes sense. The merchants got together to talk about the city¡¯s problems and, in the intervals, they swapped information about energy control, considering that they could no longer access their outside sources of knowledge for these things. That confirms my theory: the motive for the current conflict is much more economic and political than anything related to control. The warlocks were involved simply because this activity is more common among the merchants. Today, control is the only weapon they can use to oppose the government.


    ¡°After discussing things for a few months, we decided to put pressure on the city¡¯s leaders to take more democratic actions, like what had happened in other parts of the world. Caio, who was very involved with the group, was elected spokesman.¡±


    ¡°Spokesman? What did he do?¡±


    ¡°Mass rallies. He called other merchants¡¯ attention to the cause and recruited more supporters. Your father was a gifted speaker. He was very good at convincing people.


    My grandfather describes how, after a few weeks, the merchants staged protest marches to spread the ideas they were defending. More and more people showed up at every meeting, which was when the repression began. Guards began to follow the group¡¯s movements so they could crack down on them. The confrontations became violent and, one day, during a conflict in the main plaza, Babo Seranto, my grandfather¡¯s friend and one of the Guild¡¯s founders, had to use energy to defend himself from a soldier. That was all the government needed: troublemakers using magic as a weapon.


    Merchants demanding change was already a problem, but regular guards could take care of that. Now, as for the warlocks¡­. They could undermine everything Acigam claimed was true. From that moment on, merchants were not only defying the government¡¯s actions, but also the laws it imposed on the populace. If people discovered that we could control the world¡¯s elements, contrary to what we¡¯d been taught, everyone would start to question other things, increasing pressure on the rulers.


    My grandfather continues:


    ¡°Repression started increasing. People began to disappear after confrontations. Others were tortured when they were accused of practicing magic. Control became an excuse for the government to capture and kill people without explaining anything to anybody. We had no choice. We stopped everything we were doing and dispersed the groups. But that wasn¡¯t enough for Cadorcia.¡±


    What could they do besides torture and disappear people? If the conflicts stopped, the government would have gotten what it wanted. Why wouldn¡¯t that have been enough? It¡¯s clear, I know the answer. They had to get rid of the leaders who had served as an example. I felt a cold chill run up and down my spine when I realized this:


    ¡°They came after my dad, didn¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± my grandfather said, lowering his head.


    I don¡¯t know if I want to hear the rest. A few tears roll down my face before I can stop them. I grit my teeth and breathe deeply, trying to control my rage.


    ¡°What happened?¡± I ask, with a firm voice. I try to be strong to withstand what I¡¯ll hear.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°He was ambushed,¡± my grandfather says. ¡°At night. They caught him as he was leaving the shop. Caio tried to defend himself, but it was in vain. The government made it look like a common murder. The train going back to Oliveiras wasn¡¯t running, which meant they could justify finding his body in the middle of the Old Town. A phony investigation concluded he¡¯d been attacked by thieves during the night and had died while resisting them. Everything would have been believable if Laura hadn¡¯t been in the store when the hushers arrived. Hidden, she watched everything through the window.


    ¡°He was killed by hushers?¡± I ask, wanting to know, to really know, as I pushed my body away from the table.


    What cowards! He only wanted the best for everyone. My father had always been such a good person. I only have good memories of him: affectionate, courageous. How could they have done that?


    ¡°There were two of them. It¡¯s the first attack by the hushers we know of,¡± my grandfather responds as he stands up and puts a hand on my shoulder to comfort me.


    I don¡¯t need to tell you that this story has shaken me. My father was always a hero to me and to have lost him so young was difficult to overcome. Now my hatred of the government and the hushers is even more intense, and not just for restricting and controlling our lives. They took one of the most important things I¡¯ve ever had away from me.


    I was eight when he died. Obviously, I¡¯d never heard any of these details until now. I¡¯d always thought my father had suffered an accident. I can¡¯t blame them for lying. If I¡¯d known the truth, I¡¯d have grown up hating the government so completely that it would have cause problems for the rest of my family. What good would that have done? What would my revolt have produced? Nothing. I now understand my mother¡¯s concern. She¡¯d already lost one person dear to her because of this conflict and was afraid of it happening again. No wonder she detested my grandfather. She blames him for having encouraged my father to participate in the Guild.


    I ask for a little time alone and go to the kitchen to get some water. It seems like my tea didn¡¯t sit well with me after hearing this. I dry my tears and wash my face in the sink. In my mind, my hatred for the hushers is raging. If I could, I¡¯d fire an arrow into each of their chests, including King Cadorcia¡¯s. They have no right to do this. They can¡¯t simply end a family¡¯s life, deprive a child of his father¡¯s presence.


    I sit for a few minutes to calm down. I finish drinking the water and breathe deeply for a bit. When I calm down, I go back to the basement so my grandfather can tell me the rest. I want to know everything.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± he asks.


    ¡°Yes, and I¡¯m going to be even better after I join you,¡± I respond, determined.


    ¡°Le, I understand your revulsion. I felt the same thing when I realized the government had taken Caio from me. But you¡¯re not ready yet.¡±


    What does that mean? I can do enchantments. I can fight. I¡¯m no longer a child. I¡¯m furious.


    ¡°I don¡¯t agree and you have no right to try and stop me.¡±


    My grandfather comes around the table. He speaks in a gentler, more understanding tone.


    ¡°Think about your mother and your sister. They need you. Don¡¯t risk your life right now.¡±


    I then bow my head to think. What would become of them if I died too? It would be extremely hard to overcome the death of another person in our family. Even for my grandfather, who¡¯s already lost a son and could lose a grandson. I know how much I miss my father, but I can¡¯t even begin to imagine the pain of burying your only child. To this very day, my grandfather carries a small iron amulet that belonged to my father. He never takes it off for any reason. I¡¯ve often seen him looking at this object, certainly thinking about how things would be if his son were still alive, if they¡¯d made different choices. I can¡¯t help but agree. I can¡¯t take risks right now.


    To continue our conversation, I ask something I can¡¯t get out of my head.


    ¡°Why did they send the hushers?¡±


    After taking a few swallows of his tea, he responds:


    ¡°At that point, the government had investigated every aspect of your father¡¯s life and had discovered that he was very powerful. Common guardsmen might not have been a match for him. We¡¯re not sure but think the government had been developing a project at that time, something that could do away with magic¡¯s threat. Your father was an excellent opportunity to test their new assassins.


    The more I hear, the more revulsion and contempt I feel for our city¡¯s rulers.


    ¡°What happened then?¡±


    ¡°We were frightened, of course. We knew the government had put a specialized unit of soldiers in the streets to do away with us. We were totally vulnerable.¡±


    ¡°I can imagine the terror you felt,¡± I say, repulsed.


    ¡°Cadorcia was able to muffle all the uproar Caio had caused,¡± he continued. ¡°A few months after his death, no one was talking about the problem with our borders. Other merchants had also disappeared without leaving a trace. We could only establish that, in addition to being assassins, the hushers were experts in concealing crimes and could make a person disappear completely. Some of the disappeared even had their names erased from all documents in the city, as if they¡¯d never existed.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s why they took the bodies from the alley,¡± I conclude.


    ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s how they keep this conflict secret. We¡¯ve already tried to turn this public several times, but that only makes things worse and the government easily gets around the situation.¡±


    Without a doubt, it¡¯s an unequal fight. They can kill with impunity. They dictate the rules. How many people has the government already murdered without anyone knowing? Dozens? Hundreds?


    ¡°The worst part is that the attacks are starting up again,¡± my grandfather says, worried. ¡°Just this past week, two colleagues disappeared. When I saw Galek being attacked by the hushers, I thought we needed to call this meeting to alert the others.¡±


    Calmer now about my father¡¯s death, I try to understand the hushers and their tactics better.


    ¡°Just how does this silencing work?¡± It¡¯s a question that is consuming me.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know.¡± He shakes his head, frustrated. ¡°But I have my suspicions. Remember what I said about recognizing the energy around you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. To exercise good control, you must use all your senses¡­¡± I immediately pause the phrase. ¡°Is that it? If they take away one of the warlocks¡¯ senses, it affects their control?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Leran. That¡¯s probably what makes us weaker. I believe it¡¯s a manipulation of the air. Like all manipulations, the effect is stronger on targets near the epicenter. In the case of silencing, you can feel its effect up to a kilometer away. A husher begins the technique and keeps it going while the others run and hunt the warlocks.¡±


    A manipulation of the air? I¡¯d learned from him that this type of control is like an enchantment, except that you use it over a wide area, manipulating the elements there, instead of concentrating the energy on one point or object. Generally, the effect lasts for a short time, unless the warlock keeps the energy up. Silencing is a manipulation because it affects everyone within its radius and it¡¯s probably controlling the air, since sound uses this element to travel. They manipulate the air so sound doesn¡¯t propagate, which affects the pressure in our ears, making them bleed. Galek, even weakened, could launch a few attacks. He was far from the epicenter. Certainly, if he¡¯d been near the husher who initiated it, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to control any energy.


    I now want to understand if there is a way to annul this effect. My grandfather responds:


    ¡°Not that I¡¯ve found. The best course of action is to take the husher out before he uses it. The problem is that they¡¯ve been travelling in larger groups lately and we don¡¯t always know where the epicenter is.¡±


    Even so, I don¡¯t believe it would be easy to knock one of them out. I remember the husher with the daggers, how agile and skillful he was with his weapons. They¡¯re extremely lethal in hand-to-hand combat.


    ¡°And how many are there now?¡± I ask, referring to the ¡°larger groups¡± my grandfather had mentioned.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Le. We¡¯ve never seen that many together.¡±


    ¡°So, they¡¯d have an advantage over a group of five warlocks. They wouldn¡¯t be able to defeat dozens, would they?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± he says. ¡°The hushers are masters at using weapons and, once silencing is activated, one of them can kill a dozen warlocks without suffering a scratch. It¡¯s a very uneven fight.¡±


    ¡°What kinds of weapons do they use?¡±


    ¡°Different types,¡± my grandfather says. ¡°Survivors of attacks tell us about the different techniques and weapons they use, which makes us believe there are distinct individuals trained in specific types of combat. The one we saw in the alley uses daggers. He¡¯s been seen several times and is one of the fastest. There¡¯s another we know of who¡¯s specialized in bombs and gunpowder. He demolished a building by himself and killed five warlocks a few years ago. The government obviously made it look like an accident, a gas explosion. I lost three good friends that day.¡±


    Specialized in explosions? Those guys are terrifying. What other tricks do they have up their sleeves? My grandfather immediately shines a light on that.


    ¡°Others uses swords, darts, chains. They take away our ability to control energy because no one can defeat them with normal weapons. And there¡¯s more. Do you remember the tether that tied up one of the warlocks back in the alley?¡± he asks.


    ¡°Yes, it seemed as if his control had been totally annulled¡­¡±


    ¡°It had been,¡± he interrupts. ¡°In addition to hushing, they have weapons that totally disable your ability to control. And that doesn¡¯t include other devices that let them levitate, become invisible and do other tricks.¡±


    It¡¯s true. They were flying when I saw them last night. Can they become invisible too? There¡¯s no way to confront individuals with so much power during combat. They¡¯re very well-equipped assassins.


    My major concern now is to know what my grandfather and the others intend to do. Are they going to get together again to confront this situation? Or will they continue to hide, waiting for them to be captured and killed one by one?


    ¡°Our only way out will be to call an assembly of those who want change. Together, we can decide what route to take,¡± my grandfather says, ending the matter.


    I nod my head, indicating that I understand. After that long conversation, I hug him and tell him I¡¯ll be at his side, whatever he decides to do. He makes me promise I won¡¯t do anything that will risk my life, that I¡¯ll stay far from the hushers and that I¡¯ll keep our conversations secret.


    I¡¯m a bit relieved, since I know now that the warlocks intend to discuss this instead of pretend nothing is happening. That way, they¡¯ll be able to protect one another and once again put pressure on the government, if necessary. And, according to the promise I¡¯ve just made, I¡¯m not going to get involved with this right away. I¡¯ll pretend nothing is happening, mainly to not endanger finishing my last year in school. I still want to graduate.


    Before I leave his shop, my grandfather asks me if I have time to stay a bit longer. It¡¯s still a couple of hours until lunch. He says he¡¯d like teach me more about energy.


    ¡°Nothing practical, this time,¡± he says.


    He pulls a grimy book from his shelf and puffs on its cover, blowing dust into the air. I cough a little and stare, curious. My grandfather says that, since I now know the truth about the Guild and warlocks, I need to understand other forms of control, to have a greater chance of defending myself.


    He has an authentic science book in his hands.

 Chapter 5 - Forms of Control

    We¡¯ve always focused my studies on enchantments. Over the years, I¡¯ve learned how to use objects to absorb energy and then release it in a different manner. But that¡¯s not the only way to control the forces governing the world, not the only way to change the inertia of elements and make them behave in your benefit. That¡¯s what my grandfather showed me with the old book he took from the shelf. I spent the rest of Saturday morning listening attentively to every word he read.


    The pages had illustrations and texts about how energy can be controlled. Besides enchantments, there are other forms of control. Each one requires specific techniques to capture and dissipate energy.


    Manipulation, for example, is the art of controlling the elements of an entire area. The book says it¡¯s a powerful but limited, technique. With it, you can only manipulate elements that already materially exist within your reach. Air is one that¡¯s easily manipulated; it¡¯s everywhere, but manipulators of water and fire must find sources for those elements to exercise control.


    Common manipulations can alter the environment by modifying the air¡¯s humidity, for example, and thus control heat or cold; they can even interfere with luminosity and the stability of the earth, among other things. By controlling the elements around adversaries, the manipulator affects their senses, causing deafness, blindness or simply a sudden malady, like dizziness or paralysis. Everything depends on how warlocks combine what is available. A manipulation¡¯s effect is long-lasting if the manipulator continues to furnish energy for the control. It¡¯s what the book calls channeling. Nevertheless, you don¡¯t need to always maintain a manipulation for a long time; seconds of a debilitating effect are enough to make a fight uneven. A fire manipulator can cause tremendous heat from a single spark, even making his adversary die from dehydration. An experienced air manipulator can cause victims to suffocate, taking them out without having a chance to defend themselves. My grandfather says that¡¯s Babo Seranto¡¯s specialty. He was one of the men in the shop this morning.


    As was said about silencing, every manipulation has an epicenter, the point where the manipulator releases energy. From there, it dissipates throughout the radius where the technique is being performed. The closer victims are to the center, the greater effect it will have on them. Generally, warlocks who initiate control using their bodies are the epicenter. Powerful manipulators can extend the effect of their control for kilometers. Alb Pinmur is another example of a manipulator. According to my grandfather, he specializes in moving the earth; he can even cause earthquakes. I¡¯d say that too much shaking has affected his head a bit.


    The second way to ¡°do magic¡± is modeling. In high school, we learn that the god Earth models the gigantic sphere to create the base for the world. This is a clear reference to modeling, which is nothing more than using energy. It transforms intangible energy into something tangible. Simpler techniques generate only images of an object, since they only concentrate light. With this, the modeler can create illusions, as an example.


    Mid-level modeling can result in objects with different formats and sizes, as well as alter the form of things that already exist. To do this, practitioners use the surrounding elements, creating volumes, weights and even smells; their creations can interact with our five senses. More experienced modelers may even create complex beings, perfect creatures that follow orders or are intelligent and have their very own desires. Brenda Rabeli, the women who spoke with my grandfather in the basement, specializes in creatures. I¡¯ve heard that she uses servants made from pure energy do the cleaning and fix meals where she lives.


    We also have orientations, the most common method of controlling. With it, practitioners alter an element¡¯s flow, directing it to another place. Unlike other methods, in orientation energy dissipates more rapidly after being displaced, without being concentrated at a given point or stored. Controllers can use it to create more destructive attacks. The warlocks I saw downtown used orientation to throw explosive balls, luminous spheres and thunderbolts. It¡¯s a purely offensive technique. To displace an element in the form of an attack, orienters use parts of their bodies ¨C fingers, hands, arms, eyes and legs ¨C to gather energy and fire it at their targets; these body parts can all be used as launchers. Using specific objects is also normal: clubs, scepters, rings, necklaces and other items. There are many variations in style and in what warlocks prefer. The book calls these fetishes; they¡¯re commonly used because they help controllers orient more easily. Simus Calveta is an orienter; his specialty is lightning and thunderbolts.


    And finally, people can handle energy by using items or devices to control it. Unlike fetishes, these items already possess the inherent capacity for control. They¡¯re generally created by modelers or enchanters and can provide any of the other types of control. When these items are designed for combat, they¡¯re made to resemble weapons: swords that launch fire when moved and shields that create light barriers, among many others. But they can also be simple everyday objects like communicators, image generators and means of transportation. The book even shows vehicles that can fly by controlling the surrounding air. That must be incredible. It¡¯s obvious we¡¯ve never seen these in Acigam. Even the simplest items are extremely rare here in the city.


    My grandfather told me that the police¡¯s new weapons are controller items. Instead of using gunpowder, like older models, they have small enchanted crystals around the cylinder that generate balls of fire as a substitute for bullets. These rounds can easily perforate the skin, which eliminates the need for ammo. The hushers are also equipped with this type of weapon. In the end, levitation, invisibility and even silencing itself are the fruit of devices capable of controlling energy. It, of course, behooves the government to use magic for its own benefit.


    I ask my grandfather how warlocks decide what to choose, having so many options for control. He tells me about a concept called ¡°affinity¡±. Most people are born with a predisposition for some type of control, one which makes it easier for them to move energy. Others are simply born with no affinity. In this case, they¡¯re called ¡°Nulls¡±. Predispositions seem to be hereditary, which is why my grandfather, father and I can do enchantments.


    The element with which you have greater control is another thing affinity influences. Some do better with light, others with the earth, and so on. Your affinity is defined when you¡¯re born and cannot be changed. It¡¯s like your personality. Furthermore, the personality traits we carry originate in the elements that govern us. Three of the six primary energies are rational: water, earth and light. The remainder are emotional. The most fearless people have the traits of fire, for example. Ambition is related to darkness. Water people tend to be calm. They¡¯re like the virtues given by the gods. It¡¯s obvious that all of this has a scientific explanation: energies are everywhere and we are also made of them. Some are predominant in our structure and tend to influence our personality as well as our affinities. I believe that, like my father and grandfather, I am better at controlling fire and things derived from it. This, however, does not mean I cannot use water, for example. It just means it will be more difficult.


    Out there, everyone has the possibility of practicing what Acigam erroneously calls ¡°magic¡±. It¡¯s normal in their lives. Children learn control in school. From early on, they discover their affinities and work with them. Here, on the other hand, if it depended on the government, none of us would know that the energies exist. Most actually don¡¯t. People still faithfully believe the story about the gods without realizing it¡¯s an analogy for real science.


    ~~~


    After our conversation, we have lunch at the shop before I go to the market, where I am now. I want to buy my mother some flowers. I¡¯m going to give them to her as soon as I get home. I¡¯ll tell her that I really love her and that she doesn¡¯t need to worry, that I know everything, that I¡¯m at her side now and will not risk my life. She must be very strong and keep her story to herself for a while, not sharing it with anyone.


    I head to the florist¡¯s and, on the way, I observe people walking about. They¡¯re from every part of the city. Different people with distinct mannerisms and manias. Which ones are warlocks? What affinities do they have? Not even they must know the answers. I keep walking, looking at the others, and try to guess their predominant element, which energy they¡¯d be able to control, based on their gestures and their mannerisms.


    A man is walking across the street from me, wearing elegant clothes: a round hat, beige coat and black, pleated slacks. His fast pace shows urgency. He avoids people easily while moving about. I watch his movements carefully until I lose sight of him. I believe his element is air. That¡¯s what his quick mannerisms and agile gestures indicate.


    Nearby, on the street he entered, there¡¯s a woman arguing with a different man, perhaps her husband. I don¡¯t know why they¡¯re arguing. She opens her mouth as if shouting, but I can¡¯t hear what she¡¯s saying because of the noise in the market place. Visibly irritated, she moves aggressively. Fire is definitely dwelling within. The man, on the other hand, projects such a deep calm that they don¡¯t seem to be on the same page at all. Would a water person marry a fire person? I don¡¯t think so, but maybe they complement each other.


    I keep walking, imagining the affinity of everyone nearby. I stroll along, looking about in every direction except forward; I¡¯m so distracted that I don¡¯t see the girl in my path before I bump into her. The impact knocks us both down side by side on the mosaic sidewalk. When I look up, a raft of paper is flying about. I turn my head and see her, still on the ground, looking at me quietly.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± I ask, worried.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she smiles. ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I reply in turn, laughing.


    I stand and then offer my hand to help her up.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I was so distracted I didn¡¯t even see you. Are you really okay?¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± she says, beating the dust off her clothes with her hands. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you either. I need to apologize too.¡±


    ¡°Okay, so were both forgiven, right?¡±


    ¡°Right, but only if you help me with my things,¡± she says, looking at all the paper on the ground.


    ¡°Wow. I wonder if any of them tore.¡±


    I bend over and begin picking up the paper. They¡¯re plain sheets that look like wrapping paper. They probably haven¡¯t been damaged from the fall.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s all of them,¡± she says, adding the ones she picked up to mine. ¡°Thanks a lot.¡±


    The girl smiles again and, for a few seconds, time stops. I hadn¡¯t realized how beautiful her smile is. Her image makes me just stand there, looking at her. I notice a soft pink tint to her delicate lips while the light makes her teeth sparkle. The wind blows her curly blond hair. Only her bangs, held down by a silver tiara, stay in place. Her eyes have a mysterious brown tone that makes me comfortable but uneasy at the same time, hypnotized.


    ¡°Hey, you!¡± she calls out.,


    ¡°Uh, yeah?¡± I answer, shaking my head to recover from the trance.


    ¡°I asked your name.¡± Her lips are still stretched in a smile.


    ¡°It¡¯s Le¡­ Le¡­ I mean Leran.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but do I call you Le, Lele or Leran?¡±


    Jeez, I¡¯m totally flustered. She must think I¡¯m an idiot. And now? Answer her; tell her your name! I order myself.


    ¡°Le¡¯s fine. That¡¯s what everyone calls me.¡±


    ¡°Le? Okay, then.¡¯


    ¡°And yours?¡±


    ¡°Judra, my pleasure.¡± She sticks out her hand, trying to hold onto that bunch of paper with her other arm.


    ¡°The pleasure is mine.¡±


    I shake her hand and, seeing the difficulty she has holding those hundreds of sheets of paper, offer to help:


    ¡°Do you want me to carry those for you?¡±


    ¡°If you really don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d love it.¡±


    I grab the paper and follow her down a parallel street, toward the stationary shop. She walks ahead of me, showing the way. This gives me the opportunity to stop and appreciate her beauty again. She¡¯s dressed simply, but it¡¯s perfect on her: black pants, a striped sleeveless blouse and some accessories, like a white belt and silver bracelets. She¡¯s gorgeous!


    ¡°Are you coming?¡± she says, noticing that I¡¯ve stayed behind.


    ¡°Of course, I am¡± And I run to catch up with her.


    On the way, I tell her I¡¯m looking for flowers for my mother, but I don¡¯t know what kind to buy; I know nothing about them. She says she can help me, which makes me happy. I couldn¡¯t hope for better company.


    When we get to the stationary shop, I ask her if she works there and she says she¡¯s just doing a favor for a friend. I hand her the pile of papers and she enters the store. When she comes back out, she tells me she¡¯s ready for us to go to the florist¡¯s.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you around here,¡± I utter, trying to find something to talk about.


    ¡°I don¡¯t come very often. I live in Bargio.¡±


    Bargio? Man, that¡¯s far from here. It¡¯s at the other end of the train line. Bargio¡¯s a large neighborhood on the city¡¯s east side. People living there usually shop at markets closer to home. They rarely come downtown because of the distance. They¡¯re simple people, but not extremely poor. At least they live in better conditions than those in the Old Town. Judra also seems simple but there¡¯s something in her that catches my eye. I don¡¯t know what it is.


    ¡°From the look of things, you come here often, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± I answer, smiling. ¡°My grandfather has a furniture store near the main avenue. Sometimes I come to help him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s awesome.¡±


    ¡°Look, we¡¯re here.¡± I point to the florist¡¯s.


    I go in and start looking at arrangements. Judra stands next to me, watching.


    ¡°What about this one?¡± I show her a vase of large flowers with yellow petals. It looks like a good choice to me.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty, but I think it¡¯s a bit too gaudy. Wouldn¡¯t you prefer something a little more discrete and delicate?¡±


    ¡°Could be. And these?¡± I exchange them for another one with small white flowers.


    She shakes her head in disapproval and begins picking different flowers from the vases. Judra¡¯s making her own arrangement. She walks about the entire shop, looking for options.


    ¡°Try something more original,¡± she says, showing me what she¡¯s done. It¡¯s simply wonderful. ¡°I think this will be perfect.¡±


    Judra smiles and winks at me.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I say, accepting the arrangement.


    It isn¡¯t large but it¡¯s lovely. The florist gives me a cardboard box. I place the present inside to protect it until I get home. I store the box in my backpack, being careful not to crumple it.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll like this,¡± Judra says.


    ¡°Me too. Thanks to you.¡± I smile.


    We leave and start walking toward the train station.


    ¡°Are you going home now?¡± she asks.


    ¡°Yeah. I need to talk with my mother. And you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to the Lookout. I¡¯d planned to watch the sunset from there.¡±


    The Lookout ¡­ It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve heard anyone talk about it. It¡¯s a great spot, but I haven¡¯t been there in years. My father used to take me so we could view the city from on high. The panorama is marvelous. You can see downtown right below it, Oliveira on one side of the city, and, on the other, Bargio meets the horizon. The enormous Government Palace and a large part of the walls separating us from the rest of the world are visible from there.


    ¡°Cool. It¡¯s gorgeous there. Do you go often?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I love looking at the city from up there. It¡¯s the only place where I really feel free, you know? I can see a little of what¡¯s on the other side of the walls.¡±


    What she said is true. I remember there was a dark green forest on the outside. I think it was to the west. To the north, you could see a highway and the railroad line, which went on until it disappeared over the horizon, and to the south there was a great mountain chain. I realize I¡¯m not the only one who feels like a prisoner. I could see the sparkle in her eyes when she mentioned the feeling of being free. That¡¯s what attracted my attention to Judra, that sparkle in her eyes, that longing for freedom. And, little by little, I realize that I identify more and more with her.


    ¡°Are you going at least as far as the station?¡± she asks.


    ¡°Yeah, I catch the train to the west side. Do you know if it¡¯s running yet?¡±


    ¡°Was it out?¡± she asks, surprised.


    ¡°Yes, I had to walk here.¡¯


    ¡°Wow, that must¡¯ve taken you a while.¡±


    ¡°That it did.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s strange. It was running when I came downtown this morning. Maybe it just stopped on the west side.¡±


    ¡°Could be.¡±


    In fact, when we reached the station, I see that the line to the east is operating, but the line home is still out. That sign announcing ¡°Saturday morning maintenance¡± was a little off.


    ¡°How are you going to get home now?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I guess I¡¯ll have to walk again. Let me see if I can find something out.¡±


    I approach one of the security guards and ask when the trains will be running again. They¡¯re usually rude, but this one¡¯s in a good mood today. He says the trains should be operating before nightfall. The problem is that it¡¯s a long time until the sun goes down. Judra has an idea:


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you come with me? We can stay at the Lookout until they¡¯re running again. You can see the line from there. As soon as we see a train coming from the west, you can go down and catch the next one.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea. It¡¯ll be a nice outing. I just hope it doesn¡¯t take too long. I don¡¯t want my mother to worry.¡±


    ¡°No problem. Everything¡¯ll be all right.¡±


    The Overlook is close to a station on the line¡¯s east side, but it¡¯s not very far. It ought to take us fifteen minutes tops to get there. The station¡¯s full and the next train is packed. We squeeze in and I¡¯m careful so the present in my backpack doesn¡¯t get crushed. We have to stand. Judra holds the vertical bar and I¡¯m in front of her, supporting myself on the small grating that separates the seats from the car¡¯s entrance area.


    At every stop, the train gets fuller. We look at each other and begin to laugh about the situation. I can no longer reach the grating. I¡¯m standing in the middle of the crowd, holding on however I can. When the train stops again, the inertia makes me stumble and I fall on Judra, who tries to hold me anyway she can. Her only option is to hug me so I won¡¯t fall.


    ¡°Careful there,¡± she says laughing.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I say and turn around to grasp the same bar she¡¯s holding.


    ¡°That¡¯s the second time today, you know?¡± she jokes.


    I must have turned red from embarrassment, which she also seems to notice. I give her a shy smile and stay quiet until we reach the stop for the Overlook. I descend and follow her to the station exit, stretching my body to get rid of the feeling that I¡¯m still squeezed in. We cross the road and then start climbing the stairs to the top.


    ¡°Do you want some water?¡± I ask, taking my bottle from the backpack.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m really thirsty.¡±


    She drinks half the bottle in a few seconds.


    ¡°I can see that,¡± I say jokingly.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I drank all most all of the water.¡±


    ¡°Relax.¡±


    I take a few swallows and leave some for later. We keep climbing the steps that are cut into the rock in a zig-zag and soon reach the top. The ascent is truly worth it; I can see the entire city from here. I remember my father. It¡¯s good to have those memories.


    Acigam¡¯s families often visit the Overlook. Besides having a marvelous view, it features an extensive park that permits camping and picnicking. There are small kiosks you can use for lunches and parties. I see a stone bench and tell Judra that¡¯s where I used to sit with my father to look at the sky and count the stars. I begin to share part of my past with my new friend; she really seems interested. It¡¯s been quite a while since I¡¯ve talked with anyone like that. Over the last few years, I¡¯ve distanced myself a bit from my friends in high school. I feel like my ideas no longer match theirs. But it¡¯s different with Judra. She thinks like I do.


    ¡°Have you ever wanted to leave?¡± she says, pointing beyond the walls.


    ¡°I¡¯ve thought about it a lot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve wanted to go back to my hometown.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you from here?¡± I ask, surprised.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been here for more than fifteen years. I came here right after my parents died.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry! I didn¡¯t know¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± she interrupts. ¡°That was a long time ago.¡±


    ¡°Where are you from?¡±


    ¡°Mabra. Do you know anything about it?¡±


    ¡°Nope. Nothing.


    She laughs and says, ¡°It¡¯s far from here, to the north. They say it¡¯s the largest city in the world, but I don¡¯t remember much about it. I was very young.¡±


    If Judra isn¡¯t from here, maybe she knows something about energy. Maybe she knows how to control something. Could I have found someone with whom I can talk? I could try to introduce the topic in a subtle way, but I remember what I promised my grandfather and stop. Talking about this in public places is very risky.


    ¡°Who do you live with here in Acigam?¡± I ask.


    ¡°My aunt and uncle. They treat me well enough, but I don¡¯t feel at home, you know? That¡¯s why I¡¯d like to leave, travel the world.¡±


    She¡¯s a lot like me. She has different reasons, but the same objectives. She wants more out of life, just like I do. Acigam doesn¡¯t offer what she¡¯s looking for. What luck, bumping into a person like her in the middle of the market. I¡¯m sure few people think like that here.


    The rest of the afternoon flies by. We talk about so many different things I can¡¯t remember them all. One conversation leads to another; we talk about everything from food to the kinds of pets we¡¯d like to have. I tell her about my past, about what I do in high school, and she talks a little about her life and what she likes. Our conversation is in perfect harmony. I laugh, discuss serious things and even trade jokes with her. Between one subject and another, I steal a few glances at her and feel my heart accelerate.


    As the sun begins to go down, the temperature drops and I see Judra cross her arms to keep warm. I remember the jacket in my backpack and offer it to her. I put it on her shoulders; she thanks me with a smile. Contrary to what the guard had said, the sun is setting and there¡¯s no sign of the train running. Actually, I¡¯m thankful for the delay. I want to spend as much time here as I can. When it starts getting darker and the sun is disappearing over the horizon, we stop talking to appreciate the view. After a few minutes, sighing, she says,


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is,¡± I answer and look at her face while she continues gazing at the sunset. Her face, illuminated by the orange light, is more interesting than the sunset itself. I watch her until twilight covers the entire sky. She¡¯s concentrating so hard that she doesn¡¯t even notice me. When nighttime arrives, she turns and says in a sweet voice:


    ¡°Thanks for sharing your afternoon with me. It¡¯s been great.¡±


    Her eyes are even more captivating than before. Embarrassed, I glance away.


    ¡°Thank you. This day couldn¡¯t have been better,¡¯ I say self-consciously, lowering my head.


    She then touches my chin with her fingers and turns my face. I feel a shiver coursing through my body. I don¡¯t know what it is. I look at her; her dark irises hold me in a hypnotic vacuum. Little by little, I close my eyes and bring my face closer to hers until I feel our lips touch. My arms encircle her in a strong, affectionate embrace while my heart races excitedly. I¡¯m in a state of ecstasy. I¡¯ve never felt anything like this during a single kiss. We remain like that for a few minutes and, when it¡¯s over, she moves her head away and looks at me somewhat shyly. I smile at her and she, at me. Still a little euphoric from what just happened, I say:


    ¡°I take back what I said. Now it really couldn¡¯t have been better!¡±

 Chapter 6 - The Graduation

    While we¡¯re holding hands, I feel the warmth radiating from her fingers and, for a moment, feel so secure and snug that I get distracted; enjoying this pleasant moment, I only see her face. Her eyes, enigmatic, invite me to guess what she¡¯s thinking. Could it be that she likes what¡¯s happened? Was she being totally sincere when she thanked me for my company? Her smile says yes. Considering everything that¡¯s transpired over the last two days, meeting someone this fine couldn¡¯t have been more perfect. It¡¯s good to wind down a little, to forget about warlocks, the government, rebels. I want to get back to being a normal guy, at least for a while.


    ¡°You¡¯d better run,¡± she says, interrupting my thoughts. ¡°I just saw the train.¡±


    I look down and see it coming west on the line. It¡¯s running. I can go home now.


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s time to leave.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ It¡¯s getting late, isn¡¯t it? You mother¡¯s going to be worried.¡±


    She¡¯s right. In fact, my mother must be extremely worried by now. Principally because Luana must have told her I was going to see my grandfather. Regrettably, I leave Judra¡¯s side, grab my backpack, slip it on and give her a little goodbye peck on the cheek.


    ¡°Take your jacket,¡± she says, handing it to me.


    ¡°No, you keep it. It¡¯s cold. You can give it back to me later.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    I shake my head yes, in part because this will give me an excuse to see her again. I take off running so I won¡¯t miss the approaching train. When I start down the steps, I hear:


    ¡°Le, catch!¡± Judra shouts, tossing me a folded-up slip of paper.


    I catch it with my hands and keep on running.


    ¡°Can we see each other on Monday?¡± she asks.


    ¡°Of course!¡± I shout back.


    While running, I open the wadded-up paper and see it has a time and place written on it. Downtown. In one corner, there¡¯s a faint pink imprint of kiss. ¡°Yes!¡± I say softly while punching the air with my hand. Oops¡­ I think she saw me. I dissemble and continue running to the station. I look up and Judra¡¯s smiling. Dang! She did see me!


    I arrive at the stop as the train is leaving. I sprint to catch it and the doors close right behind me. I sit down and take the water bottle from my backpack. The train¡¯s quite empty now, but I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll fill up when we get to the central station. After about fifty minutes, I reach Oliveiras and go home.


    When I arrive, my mother¡¯s fixing supper. I give her a kiss on the cheek and take the flowers from my backpack. She¡¯s pleased when she sees my present. Judra nailed it. I go to the living room to make sure Luana doesn¡¯t hear us; she¡¯s in her room. I return to the kitchen and sit at the table. I ask Mom to sit down also. I begin what has all the makings of a very difficult conversation. I talk about what¡¯s happened, about the argument she had with my grandfather and even about my conversation with him in his shop earlier today; well, not all of it, obviously, but enough to reassure her. After finishing, I give her a hug and say I won¡¯t let anything happen to us ¨C not to me, not to her and not to Luana. She nods her head and says supper will be ready in a few minutes.


    I go to my room and think about everything we talked about. My mother said she took a walk this morning to gather her thoughts. She also told me that I¡¯m now a man and she can¡¯t spare me from the truth any longer. She¡¯s relieved when she learns that I¡¯ve discovered everything about my father and apologizes for having lied all this time. She says the government terrifies her and that the best thing we can do is keep on living the way we always have. In the end, she asks me not to tell Luana anything, since we need to protect her. I choose not to argue, but I don¡¯t agree with that. In fact, what could have been an argument was more of a calm chat. Everything is fine, at least for now.


    I go to Lua¡¯s room to see how she is. Despite our having exchanged a few words these past few days, it¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve really talked. I knock on her door and wait for an answer.


    ¡°Come in.¡±


    I open the door and look around her room. Even though she¡¯s lowkey and minds her own business, Luana expresses herself with little things. All her belongings look like her¡­ and her room is no exception. At times, I think she¡¯s strange, but I respect her. I see her sitting on the bed with sheets full of purple designs. She¡¯s reading another of her suspense and horror stories. I¡¯ve tried to read them before and, sincerely, I think they¡¯re crap, but she loves them. Her room is dark and only a small twisted iron lamp is on to make reading easier. I¡¯m still not used to her rustic furniture. Everything has a sinister sort of tone to it. Her burgundy curtains are open, which helps lighten up the ambience a bit.


    ¡°Am I disturbing the vampire queen?¡± I ask sarcastically.


    ¡°Of course not. Come in,¡± she says, laughing. ¡°I just finished this.¡±


    She puts her book on the dark wooden chest of drawers. After walking from the door to the center of the room, I sit at the foot of her bed, glance about once more and say:


    ¡°To complete your decorating, you could put a coffin right there,¡± pointing to a corner of her room. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Stop that!¡± she cuts me off irritatedly. ¡°So, are you going to tell me what you want or not?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I was just joking.¡± I say, backing off a bit. ¡°I just want to see how you are. We haven¡¯t really talked in a while. ¡°


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. You know. Last couple of weeks of school. Lots to do. Unlike you, I¡¯ve still got two years ahead of me. I¡¯ve just been a little tired.¡±


    That¡¯s true. It¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m finishing up with school. I know how she feels. I¡¯m truly relieved that I don¡¯t have to go next year. I just don¡¯t know what my future will be like. And what about Lua in two years? She¡¯ll probably be facing the same situation I¡¯m in now, that is, of course, if a war doesn¡¯t break out in the city. In the end, she doesn¡¯t have much to look forward to either. My sister is very good with texts, math, and she¡¯s very studious, but what could she do? Perhaps she¡¯d be a good teacher; she¡¯s always been patient explaining things and loves kids. However, her appearance would frighten the little ones. Someday she¡¯ll have to stop wearing black clothes, leather bracelets and dark makeup. At least I hope she does. Taking out her nose ring would help too. I still don¡¯t understand why my mother let¡¯s her do that. We talked for half an hour while Mom finished supper. We were able catch up on things.


    Discovering the truth about my father¡¯s death unearthed the good times I¡¯d had with him. I really miss him. I don¡¯t want to lose out on the opportunity to enjoy my family while I have it. It¡¯s the little things that make a difference.


    ~ ~ ~


    And that¡¯s what I decided to do. That weekend, I spent every minute with my family. We dined together on Saturday. We played some board games before going to bed and, on Sunday, we did outdoor activities ¨C a picnic in the woods near our house and a walk. I took advantage of the time to help my mother with some household chores. In the evening, we got together in the living room and talked. I told them about Judra, which turned out to be a big mistake. They didn¡¯t leave me alone for the rest of the evening. Now my mother wants to meet her. I don¡¯t even really know her that well; I think it¡¯s too early to introduce her to the family. What¡¯s she going to think? She¡¯ll probably run away from me, thinking that I already want to marry her. It¡¯d be best to take things slowly.


    On Monday, as agreed, I met her downtown after class. We stayed in the plaza, ate ice cream, had some popcorn and got to know each other a little better. I now know that Judra likes blackberry ice cream and knows how to dance, even though she hasn¡¯t shown me a single step, despite my insisting.


    And that¡¯s how it was for weeks: class in the morning and Judra in the afternoon. I decided to take a break from studying at my grandfather¡¯s. Actually, I haven¡¯t been to the market in weeks. I¡¯ve started meeting Judra near our home. I¡¯ve even shown her where I live, but I prefer not introducing her to the family quite yet. For the record, my lovely mom was relieved when she discovered that I was going out with my supposed ¡°girlfriend¡± frequently instead of seeing my grandfather. Yes¡­. Reality is that every day it¡¯s getting harder to stay away from Judra. Could I be falling in love?


    After all these days of ¡°dating¡± and very little scholastic achievement, my last week of classes finally arrived. We had some festivities at high school and were let out early almost every day so we could take better advantage of the summer. But what we¡¯re all waiting for is the big end-of-year party. The largest high schools in the city get their students together for a graduation ceremony and most of the young people are there. Parents don¡¯t usually attend, which makes it even more fun. This year, I won¡¯t miss it for anything in the world.


    I invited Judra to the celebration; she said she¡¯d try to go. Her reaction was like taking a cold shower. I want her to be my date and not just so she can congratulate me. She said she¡¯s having some problems at her aunt and uncle¡¯s and that she wouldn¡¯t be able to stay out all night. I didn¡¯t ask her for more details. I can¡¯t even get upset. Even though we¡¯ve known each other for almost two months and have seen each other virtually every day for the last few weeks, we aren¡¯t officially going together. What right do I have to demand anything of her? None.


    ~ ~ ~


    This Saturday evening, just two weeks after classes ended, I¡¯m getting ready for the much-awaited festivities. I dress in very elegant clothes. I choose a light green shirt my mother gave me on my last birthday; according to her, it goes well with my eyes. I put on a pair of black serge slacks that belonged to my father and slip on my black shoes and belt, both bought at Mr. Pinmur¡¯s store. In front of the mirror, I put a little gel in my hair to keep it parted on the side and, for once, it looks good. I descend to the living room where my mother is sitting, all proud.


    ¡°What a good looking young man! Let me give you a kiss!¡±


    ¡°Stop that, Mom.¡± I step back. ¡°You¡¯re going to mess up my do.¡± No matter how old I get, she still treats me like a child.


    She laughs and asks about Luana. I tell her that I don¡¯t know if she¡¯s ready yet, so my mother goes to check on her. I sit on the couch and wait. It¡¯s not long until they both come down. Lua¡¯s style surprises me. Her long hair is loose and very straight. She has a chain headband on that goes under her hair but is visible on her forehead, where it holds a small jewel in the form of a circle with a ruby stuck in the center. This was a present from our father. Her blue eyes are highlighted by her black shadow and a small nose ring sparkles in the ceiling light. She¡¯s wearing a knee-length skirt with tights that rise from her black boots. She¡¯s also sporting some red bracelets to match the jewel on her forehead and, finally, she¡¯s has a blouse on that shows off her cleavage.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Mom!¡± I shout indignantly. ¡°You¡¯re not letting her go like that, are you?¡±


    ¡°What choice do I have?¡±


    ¡°No way! You can go change right now, young lady,¡± I insist, pointing upstairs.


    ¡°Le, in all due respect, go look to see if I¡¯m standing on the street corner,¡± Luana says without paying the least bit of attention to my demand as she goes through the living room toward the door.


    I can¡¯t believe this. It¡¯s supposed to by my party. Now I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on her. How am I going to have any fun? Would it hurt if she dressed a little less ¡°comfortably¡±? All the guys will be hitting on her. I¡¯m not going to have any peace and quiet at all.


    ¡°Well, at least you¡¯re going to wear this,¡± I say, covering her with a black jacket. ¡°You¡¯re lucky it goes with your clothes.¡±


    She keeps the jacket on and goes to the door.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go. Come on.¡±


    I follow her and, before leaving, I hear:


    ¡°Take care of your sister!¡±


    I leave the house without saying anything and furiously slam the door. She lets that girl wear those sexy bloodsucker clothes and then asks me to take care of her? She¡¯s got to be kidding. But, hey, I¡¯m not going to let this get the best of me. Not today.


    ¡°Is your girlfriend coming?¡± Luana asks, already heading to the train station.


    ¡°She¡¯s not my girlfriend,¡± I reply brusquely. How many times am I going to have to say that? Luana realizes I¡¯m not interested in talking and says nothing until we reach the station. The party will take place near downtown but, to get there, we need to get off one station before the marketplace. From the station to the ballroom, we must walk down a dark, deserted street. I ask Lua to stay behind me and I walk attentively to see if there¡¯s anything suspicious. There¡¯s isn¡¯t. I¡¯m just a little paranoid.


    After walking for a few minutes, we reach the spot. I¡¯d forgotten how large it is. Last year, the party was here too. Its walls are easily over two meters high. On top, an enormous white dome covers the entire space and a flag with Acigam¡¯s coat of arms is attached to the principal entrance made up of four immense wooden doors. The people who will greet the guests are already there. I give my name and am quickly searched before being allowed in. They want to keep weapons out: knives, swords, arrows ¨C none of which are appreciated at a party. Luana follows me in.


    We¡¯ve gotten there early. The ballroom is practically empty, which helps me assess the space calmly. The stage where the solemnities will probably be held is off to one side. I see some things covered by black tarps. They must be instruments belonging to the band that will play after the ceremony. On the other side of the stage, there¡¯s the buffet where dinner and drinks will be served. On a table, I can see the evening¡¯s menu and discover that I¡¯m going to eat rather well: for starters, we have cheese-filled pasta with a burgundy sauce, the entr¨¦e will be steak smothered in an herbal sauce accompanied by risotto with mushrooms, and for desert we have vanilla ice cream with chocolate cake and bananas flamb¨¦ed in rum. Wow! I think this might just put me in a coma. Besides all that, they say there will be a table with just salads and different kinds of breads as appetizers, perfect options for Luana.


    The ballroom is decorated with gold balloons and banners sporting ¡°Congratulations¡± along with other positive messages. There¡¯s a dance floor in the middle. On the main floor, I see abstract designs mixed together in a variety of vivid colors. Just above, hanging from the ceiling, there¡¯s a huge ball that reflects light while the band is playing. The organization seems perfect. Every detail has been envisaged to make this party unforgettable. They¡¯re now serving drinks and I go to the counter to get a juice. Lua takes a glass and is sitting at one of the tables around the dance floor. I sit down next to her.


    Little by little, more people start arriving, including some I know. I get up and greet them. Luana has also found a friend and they¡¯re sitting at the table conversing. I keep an eye out on the lass to guarantee she won¡¯t be approached by any ill-intentioned young men. Even though she doesn¡¯t have many friends, Luana attracts a lot of attention. It¡¯s common for boys to try getting close to her, even with her eccentric style, but not with me here. As soon as I see a boy ogling her, I return to the table and sit there for a few minutes.


    After spoiling the third pick-up attempt, she jerks my arm and says loudly:


    ¡°What¡¯s up with you? Are you going to keep on messing with my life? Go have some fun and leave me alone.¡±


    She gets up leaving me at the table unable to react. Some people are eyeing me after our little spectacle. Embarrassed, I stand up to go after her, but I can¡¯t exactly enter the women¡¯s toilet, which is where she is right now. My only option is to go back and spend time with a few acquaintances. Minutes later, I manage to forget about Luana. Besides, with the ballroom full, it will be difficult to find her.


    People from all over the city are here. Individuals from the different social classes, children of merchants, aristocrats, workers. There are the rich and the poor. We can say that diversity is well accepted in Acigam since we see everyone in the same place. It¡¯s clear this is what the government wants us to believe, but these events always make it clear how much the rich and powerful, generally members of the government, are privileged in detriment to all others. For example, there are some boys getting soused and I already know they¡¯ll cause problems. They¡¯re the sons of government ministers and of Acigam¡¯s VIPs. They¡¯re arrogant and completely inconsequential. They¡¯ve already started playing jokes in poor taste on other guests but no one reproaches them since we all know the power their parents exercise over everyone¡¯s lives.


    Youth like them grow up without limits, do what they want when they want. They don¡¯t need to worry about their future; they¡¯ll have positions awaiting in some area of the government as official secretaries and ministers or perhaps as counsellors, even when, more often than not, they¡¯re totally ignorant and incapable of occupying a position of that caliber. But it doesn¡¯t matter, because those positions serve no purpose any way, other than to let people live off the taxes paid by merchants and workers. That¡¯s just one more incongruence existing in this city.


    A little ditty plays over the loud speakers, interrupting the sound of people talking. It announces the entrance of a short man with straight auburn hair who¡¯s wearing a white coat and a yellow flower in his lapel. It¡¯s the evening¡¯s master of ceremonies, Lui Servante, known for organizing large scale events for the government. Before beginning to speak, he asks for something from his helpers; I see that it¡¯s a small footstool so he can reach the lectern. His high-pitched voice is grating.


    ¡°Welcome to the end of school celebration. We have the pleasure of bringing together students from all over the city to honor those who have just finished this initial phase of their lives and who will now be joining the adult world.¡±


    Ah, the adult world¡­ How exciting. I can¡¯t wait to run my family¡¯s business.


    Servante continues:


    ¡°This evening will be replete with activities. You will remember it for the rest of your lives. Now let me tell you a little about our program.¡± Taking a red card from his pocket, he says, ¡°We¡¯ll begin our festivities with a delicious dinner, and, after that, we¡¯ll hear a speech from one of our great heroes, the commander of Acigam¡¯s royal guards, General Felix Barolfen.¡±


    Many applaud tirelessly upon hearing Felix¡¯s name. I refuse to do so. He¡¯s Cadorcia¡¯s general, responsible for all guardsmen and soldiers; I¡¯m certain that he¡¯s also who is behind the hushers. For many, the royal guard is an excellent opportunity for the future, especially for the poor. To see the army¡¯s leader would be inspiring for them. We¡¯ve been lobotomized since childhood to accept the government and its rules, but those who join the army suffer even more severe brainwashing. They blindly defend everything the government does and are capable of killing the innocent if their commander orders them to do so.


    ¡°After General Barolfen¡¯s speech, the band will bring our evening to life. Enjoy your meal. We¡¯ll see you in a bit.¡±


    His assistants leave the stage, giving the waiters the signal to enter and begin serving our meal. I watch Luana pick some greenery from the salad bar and then sit down by herself at a table near the buffet. I join her.


    ¡°Enjoying yourself?¡± she asks.


    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m anxious about the band.¡±


    ¡°I can see you¡¯re really anxious. I just don¡¯t think it¡¯s because of the band.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing,¡± she says and then stays quiet for a few seconds, puts a forkful of food into her mouth, chews, swallows and speaks again. ¡°Maybe your waiting for someone, I don¡¯t know¡­¡±


    My expression due to her comment is obvious: I¡¯m furious. Sometimes I want to wring Luana¡¯s neck.


    ¡°You¡¯re mistaken,¡± I snap.


    But, actually, she¡¯s not. I¡¯m anxious because Judra said she might come but hasn¡¯t arrived yet. And what if she doesn¡¯t come? Will that mean I¡¯ve been rejected? And if she does come? What will I say to her?


    ¡°Calm down, Le. From what you¡¯ve told us, she likes you. If she can¡¯t come, I¡¯m sure it won¡¯t be because of you,¡± Luana says, giving me a pat on the back.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I respond, looking down. Even though my sister irritates me at times, I really do like her. She always says the right thing.


    They serve the first dish and I eat all the pasta. Next, I go for the steak with risotto. The sauce is delicious, but the meat¡¯s a little tough. Luana doesn¡¯t even try it. She¡¯s not a fan of red meat. Dessert is marvelous. The vanilla ice cream with bananas and chocolate cake are a perfect combination. I eat three helpings; I¡¯m so stuffed I can¡¯t even stand up.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you get fat?¡± Luana asks.


    I shrug my shoulders, indicating I have no idea and then, underneath the table, undo the top button on my trousers to free up my full belly.


    While recovering from my gluttony, I notice movement on the stage. They¡¯re preparing for Felix¡¯s speech: they remove Lui¡¯s footstool, put Acigam¡¯s flag in the background. A few soldiers go on stage and stand next to the platform. There are four, two on each side. They¡¯re probably the commander¡¯s body guards. Lui announces Felix¡¯s entrance over the loudspeaker. The applause begins and everyone stands up, even me. After all, I do want to at least see what¡¯s going on.


    A man with a beard and short hair enters the ballroom, approaching the stage. He¡¯s wearing armor with epaulettes, a breast plate with a wide skirt. The rest of his clothes are normal, but of high quality: blue slacks with some buttons and a red long-sleeved shirt beneath the armor. He¡¯s also wearing a cape affixed to one of his shoulders. This is Felix Barolfen. I¡¯ve never seen him in person; there¡¯s no way someone his size could pass you without being noticed. He must be almost two meters tall!


    Arriving at the lectern, he begins:


    ¡°Young people of Acigam,¡± his voice is so deep that even with the ballroom full, it seems to echo from all corners. ¡°I am here today to offer you an invitation ¨C an invitation to reflect on your future.¡±


    His presence on the stage and his cavernous voice keep everyone attentive. You can¡¯t hear any sound other than what originates from his speech.


    ¡°Today, you will abandon your lives as children. As men and women, you will be needed to protect our society.¡± He moves to the other side of the stage and looks at the people, showing great charisma. ¡°Many years ago, I made a choice. I swore to protect my city, my people. And honoring that oath, I have confronted innumerous challenges to get where I am today. Here and now, you should also make your own choice. Some already know what path to take. Nevertheless, most of you are confused and need help at this moment.¡±


    Of course, we¡¯re confused! What options do we have, other than to become employees in someone¡¯s store or join the army? Unfortunately, the government doesn¡¯t offer us better opportunities. Despite being tired of studying, I know the importance of doing so and, in Acigam, you can only go as far as high school. In other cities, adults can also continue in schools called universities; they¡¯re always studying so they can progress even more. Here, we have none of that.


    ¡°Acigam is going through a difficult time,¡± Felix continues, projecting a tone of tension into his speech. ¡°Many of you are unaware, but an occult enemy is growing and is now threatening our customs and our peace.¡±


    What¡¯s he talking about? As soon as Felix finishes that phrase, I hear murmuring from people trying to understand what he¡¯s attempting to say.


    ¡°You, our youth, can help thwart this. You can protect your families and friends from this common threat. I know that everyone here lives by the rules, according to Acigam¡¯s laws.¡± At this moment, he looks to the part of the ballroom where I am. I have the clear impression that his eyes are on me. ¡°That is why you are perfect to join our forces, to unite your youth and willingness with our experience and skills. I am here today to invite you to participate in our selection for the Acigam Royal Guards. You will have a promising future with us and will keep your families and the city safe. I¡¯m counting on you. Thank you.¡± Everyone applauds and Felix leaves the stage, followed by his guards.


    A promising future? Without a doubt, for those dying of hunger, entering the guard is much more promising than begging for crumbs on the streets of the Old Town. The government gives basic commodities to members of the army, which helps keep their families fed. However, that¡¯s not all they¡¯re dealing with now; they¡¯re calling young people to defend the city from an occult enemy that intends to threaten its peace? He¡¯s undoubtedly referring to warlocks. What strategy can this be? Are they inciting fear in the populace to drum up followers for their cause?


    I find that idea perplexing and frightening. Without reacting, I sit down, and stay that way for a few minutes before noticing Luana at my side.


    ¡°Is everything all right?¡± she asks, looking me squarely in the face. ¡°You¡¯re pale.¡±


    ¡°Everything¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t think the meat went down well.¡±


    ¡°I told you that red mea¡­¡± She stops and uses with her face to point behind me. ¡°I think those guardsmen are looking for you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I turn around and look where Luana points. I see two guards talking to a boy from my high school who points in my direction. They immediately start out for our table. My heart jumps.


    ¡°Are you Leran Yandel?¡± one of them asks as they approach.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I respond softly. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°General Barolfen wants to see you now.¡±

 Chapter 7 - The Real Warlock

    The chill that courses down my spine leaves me cold and temporarily paralyzed. My mouth is completely dry and my tongue goes limp, leaving me speechless. Luana tries to help:


    ¡°Dinner didn¡¯t sit very well with him.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry, young man. This will be quick.¡±


    Quick? As in a quick death? Is that what they¡¯re trying to say? Have they discovered that my grandfather¡¯s teaching me magic? Do they intend to separate me from everyone else so they can kill me? Torture me? What can I do? Having no choice, I stand up and follow the two through the room. Other students are looking at us, not quite understanding what¡¯s going on. On the way, other soldiers have set up a table near the stage and seem to be taking the names of young men interested in military service. The line is long; apparently, Felix¡¯s speech has left them inspired.


    Using a side door, I enter the hall giving access to the ballroom¡¯s support areas: kitchen, laundry room and a few offices. The guardsmen direct me to another door at the end of the passageway and tell me to go in; they remain outside. I open it and find myself in a common room containing a large table with chairs around it. On the other side, I see a man sitting with his back to me, looking out the window. It¡¯s Felix Barolfen.


    ¡°Please have a seat, Mr. Yandel.¡±


    I obey and, worried, await more instructions.


    ¡°Is everything all right?¡± he says as he swivels his seat so he can see me.


    It seems like I¡¯m in front of an enormous predator. Felix is huge and, sitting in a large armchair on the other side of the table, the difference in power between us is clear. It¡¯s as if he could devour me at any moment. Essentially, if he wanted to kill me now, no one would know.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I respond.


    ¡°You seem frightened. Has something happened?¡±


    ¡°No, sir. It¡¯s just that dinner didn¡¯t sit well with me.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t eat mushrooms either, you know?¡± He tries to break the ice and quickly changes the subject. ¡°I think you know why you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°No, sir, I don¡¯t,¡± I reply, shaking my head.


    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll explain it for you.¡± Before beginning, he takes a cigar from a drawer and lights it. ¡°Do you mind if I smoke.¡±


    Does it make any difference? He¡¯s already lit the cigar.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± I answer.


    The cigar smoke is nauseating. It quickly fouls up the room and makes our conversation even more unpleasant.


    ¡°Yandel, I¡¯ve had my eye on you for the last couple of years.¡±


    That¡¯s it. I¡¯m screwed. He knows about everything: the enchantments, my grandfather, the rebels. I¡¯m going to be arrested as soon as this conversation ends. His cigar must be the part of the torture.


    ¡°Your grades in high school are exemplar, plus your performance in combat-related subjects is excellent. I¡¯ve spoken personally with your archery teacher. He told me that you¡¯re brilliant. Your skills will prove useful to our guard. I can easily imagine a young man with your aim handling one of our pistols.¡±


    I¡¯m a bit calmer now; I even let out a sigh of relief, releasing all my pent-up air at once. So that¡¯s it, then? He just wants me to enlist? Not that it¡¯s a good thing; it¡¯s just much better than my first impression.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir. I¡¯m not sure if I correctly understood the reason for our conversation,¡± I say, wanting more information.


    ¡°It is I who should apologize. I was excited about your school records and forgot to mention why I¡¯m here today.¡± He puts his cigar out in the ashtray and continues. ¡°This year, our enlistment strategy is a little more robust. We¡¯re not only looking for those who are interested, but we¡¯re also going after people we believe would have a bright future in Acigam¡¯s military. Your prospects are bright, Leran. What you learn in high school is just a teaser. In our guard, you¡¯ll receive serious training, which will make you a skilled combatant and greatly improve your ability as an archer.¡±


    You would also teach me to kill, torture and ignore people¡¯s rights. I must decline his invitation very politely.


    ¡°I¡¯m certain it¡¯s a great opportunity, sir. But my family has a business downtown and my grandfather¡¯s is very old; it¡¯s my duty to take over his store.¡±


    ¡°I understand, but I¡¯d like to make your potential clear, so you can make the best choice. As you know, here in Acigam you¡¯re free to choose what you want.¡± He opens his eyes and observes me with a strange expression, smiling out of the corner of his mouth. ¡°Isn¡¯t that true?¡±


    ¡°Of course, sir. I¡¯ll really think about your proposition and talk to my family so we can come to the best decision for everybody concerned.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good that you worry about your family,¡± he says, standing up. ¡°Now I know you¡¯ll make the right decision.¡±


    I don¡¯t know why that phrase sounds like a threat. Maybe because of how Felix is looking at me.


    ¡°In the meantime, that¡¯s it, Mr. Yandel. We¡¯ll be in touch. As soon as you decide, let me know.¡±


    He extends his hand in farewell. From its size, I believe he could crush my head with it. After saying goodbye, I leave, shaking my hand to relieve the pain caused by his firm grip. Passing through the door, I see there¡¯s already another student waiting to talk with Felix. That makes me calmer. He really is speaking with promising candidates for his army. I had the bad luck of being the first.


    I return to the ballroom and find Luana worried.


    ¡°What¡¯d they say?¡±


    ¡°Nothing much, I just received an invitation to join the royal guard due to my school records.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to?¡± she asks, taken aback.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Eww, Le!¡± she says after moving her nose in and sniffing my clothes. ¡°You smell like cigarettes.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not cigarettes. It¡¯s cigar.¡±


    ¡°So, have you started smoking? I¡¯m going to tell¡­¡±


    ¡°Stop being an idiot,¡± I cut her off. ¡°Felix Barolfen was smoking in the room while talking with me. He¡¯s disgusting.¡±


    ¡°Uh, okay. I understand. He really does look disgusting.¡±


    I stand up to get a glass of juice and notice the instruments have been uncovered. The band should start playing in a few minutes. Meanwhile, I return to the table and continue with my plan to keep my sister far from prospective brothers-in-law. I sit next to her, talking, making sure no one approaches. I manage to chase off two more lunkheads and everything is going well.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    It¡¯s almost midnight and the band is finally beginning its show. Their sound is wonderful, danceable. Everyone goes to the dancefloor and begins enjoying themselves. I even forget about the predicament I was in a few minutes ago in that room. I spend twenty minutes on the dance floor and leave to drink some water. While I¡¯m going back to the center of the ballroom, I hear:


    ¡°Leran?¡±


    I quickly turn around and see her, she¡¯s beautiful. Wearing a red sleeveless dress that¡¯s not very long, silver sandals, a silver bracelet and necklace. Her hair is tied back in a braid and she¡¯s wearing an elegant tiara on her forehead. Her lips are painted a light red, almost pink, and her gaze¡­ that took my breath away. She¡¯d come.


    ¡°Ju¡­ Judra. How are you?¡± I say, nervously.


    ¡°Great,¡± she smiles and comes to me, giving me a kiss.


    I feel the world spin faster while I embrace her and hear the music playing in the background. This girl leaves me completely stunned.


    ¡°What have I missed?¡± she asks.


    ¡°Just the commander of the guard¡¯s boring speech.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just as well that I got here now.¡± She says. ¡°And your sister. Did she come too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s go. I¡¯ll introduce you.¡±


    I reach for Judra¡¯s hand and take her to the table where Luana had been, but she¡¯s no longer there. Where could that girl have disappeared to?


    ¡°She was just here.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay. She probably went to the restroom. Let¡¯s dance in the meantime,¡± she says, dragging me to the dancefloor.


    The rhythm¡¯s still spirited and Judra dances well. Her steps are enchanting, a mixture of sensuality with innocence. I¡¯m not a bad dancer but it¡¯s hard to keep up with her. She takes my hands and helps me imitate her moves, all the while laughing at my lack of coordination.


    ¡°Okay, we¡¯re getting better,¡± she compliments.


    After two fast songs, the band plays a slow, romantic tune. I take Judra by the waist and pull her close. She wraps her arms around my neck and we begin to dance with our faces very close.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you came,¡± I whisper in her ear.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t miss your party, could I?¡±


    I smile and offer her a kiss which she doesn¡¯t refuse. Once more, we¡¯re there enjoying each other¡¯s company to the sound of the music, swinging from side to side, two steps here, two there. Her lips are so soft I could keep on kissing them for hours on end and the perfume she¡¯s wearing is delicious. It reminds me of the flowers my mother grows in her garden. It¡¯s all just too perfect. They play several songs and I don¡¯t even notice the time flying by. After a few minutes clutching her on the dancefloor, Judra asks for a glass of water and I¡¯m obliged to leave her and go to the bar. I look for Luana quickly on the way and don¡¯t find her. I¡¯m a little concerned.


    ¡°I need to find my sister,¡± I say, giving her the water.


    ¡°No problem. Tell me what she looks like and I¡¯ll help you.¡±


    ¡°A little shorter than you, long dark hair. She¡¯s dressed in black, with a skirt and red accessories.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that her sitting there?¡± Judra points to another corner.


    ¡°My, it is. You¡¯re fast.¡± I respond, smiling.


    My sister gets up and goes to another part of the ballroom, but she¡¯s followed by a very large guy of medium height. She says something to him, apparently irritated.


    ¡°I think that fellow¡¯s bothering her,¡± Judra says.


    I don¡¯t say anything and go directly to my sister. Getting near, I see he¡¯s one of those snooty kids, somebody important¡¯s son. Already drunk, he grabs Luana, trying to kiss her. She pushes him and slaps him on the cheek. Furious, he raises his hand to hit her. I step between them just in time.


    ¡°Is there a problem here? I ask, restraining his fist.


    ¡°This your boyfriend, princess?¡± the imbecile pops off, slurring his words.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m her brother and you¡¯d better leave now.¡± I push his arm and release him. He then loses his balance and falls, landing on his posterior.


    By now, a circle of young people has formed and I¡¯m in the middle with the guy on the floor in front of me. They begin to laugh. Outraged, the drunk stands up and starts berating me.


    ¡°Just who do you think you are to tell me anything? Do you know who you¡¯re talking to, you piece of garbage?¡± He pushes me with both arms and I take a few steps backwards.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care who you are. And I don¡¯t think you¡¯re in any shape to fight. I¡¯m not going to beat a dead horse.¡± I turn my back to see if Luana is all right. She screams:


    ¡°Le!¡±


    I turn around and see the guy coming at me, trying to hit me with everything he¡¯s got. I block his blow with my arm and stick my leg out. With the weight of his body, he crashes to the floor and stays there, sprawled out, unable to get up.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡± I take Luana by the arm and pull her from the circle, stepping through the ring of bystanders.


    ¡°Is everything all right?¡± Judra asks, worried.


    ¡°It was just a drunk. Everything is now.¡±


    ¡°So, are you Luana?¡± Judra asks.


    ¡°Yes, I am. And you must be my brother¡¯s girlfriend, right?¡±


    I think you could have seen my blushing cheeks from a thousand kilometers away. The look I give Luana is so hostile that she realizes how thoroughly I detest her inquiry.


    ¡°Girlfriend?¡± Judra asks, self-conscious.


    ¡°Luana, wouldn¡¯t you rather go talk with your friend over there?¡± I point to where the drunk had fallen.


    ¡°No thanks. I¡¯d rather stay here with my sister-in-law.¡±


    Great, she¡¯s managed to do it. Judra and I are now both completely mortified, not knowing where to look.


    ¡°Uh, guys, what do those faces mean? You¡¯re not going to let some drunk ruin the party, are you?¡± Luana makes a joke about the situation and returns to the dancefloor.


    ¡°Quite lovely, that sister of yours,¡± Judra says with a mocking smile, clearly unsettled.


    ¡°Well, yeah, she¡¯s authentic¡­¡± That¡¯s the only non-aggressive way to describe her that comes to mind her.


    In my heart, I want to kill Luana, but what can I really do? I wind up following her example and take Judra back to the dancefloor. After dancing for almost an hour, I notice the guy I tripped is staring at us. He says something to his two friends and points in our direction.


    ¡°It¡¯d probably be better if we left,¡± Judra says after also spotting what is happening.


    ¡°I agree. Luana, let¡¯s go,¡± I call out to her.


    It¡¯s not a good idea to have problems with those guys. I start toward the exit and the girls follow me. Seeing that we¡¯re leaving the ballroom, the three block our way, preventing us from reaching the door.


    ¡°And, now, wise guy?¡± challenges the drunk.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want any problems; we¡¯re just leaving,¡± Luana interrupts.


    ¡°Too late for that,¡± he snaps back.


    They surround us and begin pushing me from one side to the other. Luana screams for help and Judra disappears. After being jostled a few times, I¡¯m propelled toward a taller boy and use my inertia to hit him harder, smacking him squarely on the nose. Blood immediately starts flowing and he raises his hands to his face to stop the pain. I¡¯m struck from behind by his other friend and fall to the floor. Before they can start kicking me, four guards appear and immobilize the troublemakers; Judra has brought them. All three are dragged outside, each one accompanied by a soldier, while the fourth stays to disperse the crowd that gathered to watch the fight. The drunk keeps on yelling, until he¡¯s completely removed from the locale:


    ¡°Do you know who I am? You can¡¯t do this to me. My father will get you all!¡±


    I can¡¯t believe I saw guards punishing somebody like him. I don¡¯t know who his father is, but if he¡¯s a high-ranking government official, his father can even have these soldiers killed if he finds out what happened.


    ¡°Now that they¡¯re gone, we can have a little more fun,¡± Judra says.


    Which, in fact, is what we do. We spend another hour at the party. Now exhausted, we decide to leave. The ballroom is much emptier and the only people remaining are those who really like to party or who are so drunk they¡¯re slumped in the corners.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to miss anything else if we leave now,¡± Luana says, looking around.


    ¡°I agree.¡±


    We leave the party and walk down the street toward the train station. It¡¯s still dark and we must walk a while to reach the terminal. But that doesn¡¯t matter; the early morning air is pleasant, warm. We¡¯re chatting, laughing about what happened. Judra and I are still arm in arm and Luana¡¯s right behind us. We distance ourselves a little from her when she stops to adjust her boots. As soon as we notice that my sister isn¡¯t keeping up with us, we turn around to wait for her.


    ¡°Hurry up,¡± I yell.


    ¡°Calm down, I need to loosen this a little,¡± Lua says, tugging on her bootlaces.


    Before she can finish, I¡¯m surprised by someone who comes out of a nearby alley and pummels me in the back. I put my hand where I¡¯ve been struck and fall in pain. Judra screams when she¡¯s grabbed by another individual who immobilizes her arms. I then hear a familiar voice.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been waiting for you, hero.¡± It¡¯s the drunk.


    Judra yells for help while the lout throws her to the ground. She passes out from the impact. Furious, I get up and punch the guy, but the third jerk smacks me in the ribs. They¡¯re all armed with wooden cudgels, which is what they used to hit me with the first time. The pain from the blow brings me to my knees and I¡¯m attacked from behind before falling again. The three begin kicking me and I can do nothing but protect my head with my arms. Seeing them beating me, Luana is desperate.


    ¡°Stop it! Just stop! You¡¯re going to kill him!¡± she screams while running to help me.


    As soon as she approaches, one of the guys pushes her and Lua falls face down. What a coward! I try to get up to help her, but I¡¯m kicked in the stomach, which knocks my wind out. I feel like I¡¯m about to pass out from the beating. Then, with my eyes almost closed, a strident noise catches my attention and brings me back to consciousness. Flashes of light pass by as if an explosion has taken place right beside me. The blows stop and, looking around, I see all three lying on the ground. I rise to my knees and see Lua standing, arms extended, with her face turned and eyes closed. Traces of energy detach themselves from her hands and dissipate in the air. Frightened, I check one of the boys¡¯ neck for a pulse, but I feel nothing¡­ He¡¯s dead. Luana¡¯s killed him.