《Not A Hero》 PROLOGUE: Summoning Declaration: This is my first attempt at fiction fantasy. English is not my native language. Any mistakes made are mostly unintentional. I would love to know about said mistakes and any other suggestions/critiques that help me write better. Please rate & review. PS: I also have no idea how to code. Note: single apostrophe (''......'') is used to indicate thoughts or for emphasis. Just to confuse you, I have also used italics for emphasis. That''s all. Happy reading. ^^ ___________________ Prologue ¡°Ere yet the turmoil begins The circle of fate yet once more spins The world to bleed on ravenous sins For but to pause when honor wins So beg all your prayers hence May heroes come, victory commence.¡± The demise He lay collapsed on a crude chair inside the gloomy room. Sparse light diffused from exhausted candles, and lost itself in the darkness, giving a sharper tinge to his despair. Silence filled the room and echoed in the hollow recesses of his mind. His face was haggardly and strained. Streams of sweat coursed through agonizing wrinkles and subdued scars, dousing his once fiery heart. His eyes emptied into darkness, unfocussed, unblinking, trying to make sense. His half-open mouth was yet to find the words he needed. Then the chair creaked, crunching against the stony floor in its half-rotten capacity, and the shadows shifted against his backdrop. Even his shadow appeared so much larger than him; more corporeal, more powerful. A servant bowed at his beckoning fingers. He shifted slightly. His lips twitched to create words, his eyes to imbibe light. In his left hand he clenched a small envelope, a result of decades of thought and hard work. It would not bear fruit. Not in his lifetime. He held it before the servant, letting the light add color to its embossed seal. ¡°Will you pass it to her in my name?¡± he asked. ¡°But master,¡± the servant hesitated. He could not bear to do this. ¡°Please, it is our only hope.¡± ¡°As you command.¡± The servant bowed and left. And the candles breathed their last, extinguishing without a wisp of wind into deep darkness. It was silence once again. Repeating the clich¨¦ The glyph of summoning belonged to the highest order of glyphs in Cumaria. Its use was permitted only during emergencies and catastrophes and the royal family commanded the rights to such usage. As a glyph of arcane magic, it held special importance. It could summon the unnatural and the impossible. It could summon dragons and disasters, both equally calamitous. It could summon dungeons and demons, which were a close match. It could also summon heroes and devils, both being¡­ well, somewhat different. It could even summon other glyphs, which was absurd but very much possible. The aim however, was generally to summon heroes, or sometimes the king¡¯s favorite dessert, ice cream. For this matter, the arcane summoning glyphs were adapted to these two needs in particular, both of which were considered crucial to a peaceful kingdom. Neither hungry kings nor harried populaces made for prosperous kingdoms. The glyph on the floor belonged to the former category, summoning heroes. It was painted in blue fluorescence to add dignity and charm to the circle, both being entirely unnecessary to the process. The crystal salt of Alun and the Tortonic concoction forming the base of the paint were the real ingredients needed for the magic to work, and were colorless. The arcane glyph for summoning heroes consisted of a large triangle that encased four adjacent circles, one near the apex, two behind it and one touching the base. Three of these circles were each an attribute of the summoned heroes: courage and strength, intelligence and capacity, swiftness and dexterity. The fourth circle at the base was for what the mages called ¡°magical balance¡±, to stabilize the glyph. As usual, there were other complicated runes and shapes carved into the glyph to make it perfect for summoning heroes. Only royal archimages and high mages understood such intricacies. One of them stood before the summoning glyph. The girl, Violet, wore azure robes and a velvet hat with a golden cockade to symbolize her position. It was pointless. Her childish stature and young age themselves distinguished her. In her hand was an archimage¡¯s staff, carved out of runewood and chrysal silk and embedded with the moon-mix orb of high purity. Her face was childish, even betraying her young age of twenty. Her eyes matched the azure of her robes and her hair contrasted it with subtle orange. She was cute, more so when she focused strongly with her brows bending inwards and twitching, while her lips pouted. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°This time for sure,¡± she grumbled, placing another bag of sparkle sand at the center of the glyph. ¡°But little miss¡ª¡± a supporting mage had barely uttered a word when he received a strong glare to which he faltered, ¡°uh, I mean madam archimage, I don¡¯t understand, why the sparkle sand?¡± ¡°Your puny mind cannot even comprehend that? Deplorable!¡± she scorned him, then added haughtily, ¡°Of course it¡¯s for the dramatic effects! The heroes must be welcomed with a bang.¡± Seated in the audience stands, the king and his counsels grimaced in reply. The slope of their seating resembled that of a theatre. The summoning chamber itself was designed like a coliseum and half as large to account for accidents. Accidents now seemed increasingly probable, given the royal archimage¡¯s temper. The Maiden of Light smiled sympathetically at Violet. Others just stared. Violet did not take kindly to this reaction, despite the fact that she was attempting the ritual for the seventh time already. Daylight was eating into dawn. The celestial alignment was fading. She had very little time. ¡°You people think this is childish?¡± Violet snapped, ¡°I will show you! Just watch!¡± ¡°I never said¡ª ¡°Shut up and watch!¡± she cried and started chanting the arcane spell. ¡°%^**(#$%&#;*(^&;*)@%&;¡­..¡± or so it went. Most arcane spells made no sense but worked surprisingly well. Once again, the glyph lit up with the spell. The soft glow scattered blue fluorescence until suddenly light engulfed the room. Once again, there was a small burst, sending glitters and sparkles among the cloud of sand dust. Unlike previously however, violent coughing broke out. The archimage leapt with the jubilant expression, pointing excitedly at the cloud of dust and sparkles. ¡°See! See!¡± she shouted. ¡°See what?¡± the king asked, unable to see anything but sparkles and dust everywhere. ¡°They coughed! The heroes coughed in the sparkle sand. I told you it was useful.¡± The spectators gazed at the elated archimage with pity. Their curiosity soon turned towards the heroes. Silhouettes emerged when the dust began to clear, illuminated by blue fluorescence. The king coughed customarily at their appearance. ¡°Welcome dear heroes,¡± he said in the deepest voice possible, ¡°to our world, the world of magic and miracles.¡± The chamber was so built that his words resounded theatrically, creating a somber atmosphere. ¡°It is in great need and dire circumstances,¡± he continued, glancing at the first of the figures to emerge, a healthy young boy with an athletic body, ¡°that we call upon the protection of ancients to save us, the greatest of miracles and the strongest of summons¡­ ¡± he uttered the well-rehearsed dialogue while peeking at the two others behind him. They were both girls the same age as the boy, even dressed similarly in some aspects. He carried on, ¡°¡­ the summoning of heroes, the greatest of saviors. I thank God for blessing us with such champions of justice as you¡­ three?¡± At this point, the king¡¯s speech died down fast, as if he drowned and the air left his lungs. Reality poured a bucket of cold water over him and murmurs began all around. The dust settled down and heroes stood before them, confused after hearing the speech. The audience was even more confused. The archimage panicked. The support mages hissed in alarm. Inside the summoning glyph stood four young people. They stared at the dumbfounded archimage and the commotion even as the king sighed and rubbed his temples. The ceremony did not go as expected at all. _____________ EDIT (24/5/16) Honestly speaking, this fic was written with the aim of beginning with the usual run-of-mill story and breaking out of it. Early chapters use stereotypes for the same reason. This changes with later chapters. As to how far I will succeed, only the end of volume 1 will tell. Please give this story a chance till ch8. You might like this story because- 1- there be poems (good ones) 2- there be dialogue ("different" or good) 3- character development (slow but continuous) 4- if you like my writing style (slightly sarcastic with darker undertones) 5- logic, (nitpickers are welcome) You might dislike this story because- 1- MC is weak, develops slowly 2- not everything is explained from get go, many things unveil slowly 3- will never have flawless MC or characters 4- there''s a lot of drama, some political intrigue etc. 5- it will keep getting darker Basically this feels more like a drama that happens to be fantasy (Drama > action/adventure > fantasy >> romance) Humor is a hit or miss (mostly slapstick in first few chaps and mostly sarcastic after that). I hope this helps. ^^ __________________________________________ 1. Three is a miracle, four a debacle The first chapter is out. Any more will have to take time. I would like to apologize beforehand because the story may have a slow progress initially. I repeat, the story is slow and only begins to pick up by chapter 8. Again, please do point out any mistakes you come across. Alright, without further ado, here''s the first chapter. Would love to hear your views on it. __________ Three is a miracle, four a debacle ¡°Call forth the mighty heroes lore Bring the hope forlorn before In honor rise, in courage roar The three of fate that legend bore.¡± (Yet what if mischief brings forth four Good does not dwell in numbers more) Boris and his classmates sat in a quiet lunch that day. Having finished his sandwiches, he packed away his lunchbox and took out a juice can. He settled his head down, refusing to participate in the conversation. Beside him sat Ray. Ray chatted away with Sylvia and Claire, both of them his good friends. The clique centered on him. They discussed his plans for the upcoming weekend. Both girls seemed interested in a nearby fair organized on Sunday and wondered if he could accompany them. Ray was happy to oblige. He wanted to bring Boris along but Claire shrugged it off. ¡°He won¡¯t come. It¡¯s not a book fair.¡± Ray mumbled an apology to Boris. Boris did not mind. He was in the land of dreams already. The stupid grin on his face annoyed Ray to no end. Ray was still in the middle of deciding how to whack him awake when it happened. At first, Boris felt slight tremors. Before he could get up or ask around, a wave of nausea and dizziness hit him hard. The ground twisted. The air flickered, simmered and shifted. His world whirled in spirals and blinded out in immense light. Before he knew, Boris crashed. Dust flamed his lungs and he coughed violently. Struggling around to grab something, he found the ground and pushed his legs to stand. Others coughed in the dust before him. ¡°Are you two alright?¡± It was Ray. He probably located Claire and Sylvia and enquired about their condition. Always considerate of others, that was his trait. ¡°What the heck was that?¡± Boris grouched. ¡°Boris?¡± Ray asked through the dust. The lighting here made it look like he was standing in a fog. ¡®Is this a prank event?¡¯ Boris wondered. Before he could grasp the situation, someone shouted before them. ¡°See! See!¡± It was a female voice, an unfamiliar one. The tone was childish and Boris could almost make out a small brat jumping about. ¡°What is happening?¡± Claire asked. More clamors went over their heads. Then someone almost roared. ¡°Welcome dear heroes, to our world, the world of magic and miracles.¡± The deep voice echoed in softer hums and dust began to clear out of their vision. Boris spotted the ceiling now. It was a massive circle, tall beyond sight. Its heights blurred into darkness. The lighting seemed out of a drama theatre¡ªsmall torches glowed in red orbs and larger blue orbs hovered in a circle around them. A lot of work would have gone into this. And it showed. Eerily, the lights flickered and bobbed, sending his shadow twisting and quivering. Boris scowled at his shadow and noticed the symbols etched into the ground. A triangle of blue glowed with circles and motifs. ¡®Definitely a shady theatre,¡¯ he decided. ¡°It is in great need and dire circumstances that we call upon the protection of ancients to save us, the greatest of miracles and the strongest of summons¡­ ¡± the voice went on and on in a monotonous tone, as if narrating a drama script, ¡°¡­ the summoning of heroes, the greatest of saviors. I thank God for blessing us with such champions of justice as you¡­ three?¡± The voice choked. The room cleared up and Boris noticed a group of weirdly dressed people with awkward expressions staring back. A small girl dressed in witch¡¯s robes stumbled around with her staff. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped comically. Others in loose robes surrounded the girl, hissing and croaking while they each enacted their part of a tableau. Behind the robed freaks, audience stands climbed up. The space was huge. Wide arches emerged across the walls and disappeared into the darkness of the ceiling. Pillars marked the circumference. The lighting turned brighter, the orbs glowing furiously. For a theater, the turnout was remarkably low. Was this really a theater? People raised confused voices, yelling at the men in robes below. ¡°Silence!¡± a voice ordered and Boris witnessed a huge man rise up. He wore a golden crown on his thick wavy hair and deep maroon robes, richly embroidered and gleaming in golden yellow. A few others huddled around him. ¡°Oh, he totally looks like a king. Is this a drama theatre?¡± Claire asked, reflecting his views. ¡°How did we get here?¡± Sylvia added. That was the right question. Ray observed the events with growing worry but it had yet to cross his face. He spread his arms wide behind him, covering them. A sense of danger pricked him and Boris felt the same now. Boris ran a cautious gaze all around, finding a woman still smiling at them. She looked young and, for lack of a better word, marvelous. Her loose white robes had wide sleeves patterned in vines and flowers. Two sashes wrapped around her, one at her chest and the other at her waist. Long black hair cascaded over her shoulders in smooth locks and ran down her back. He smiled back at her confidently, to which she smiled back brighter. It was a reassuring smile and he knew everything would be all right, that is, until the man dressed like a king reentered the room. ¡°We welcome you heroes, to the world of Gaia, the world of magic and miracles. Our world is in great need of your strength and valor. Help us lest we perish.¡± He spoke in rapidly improvised speech. Something was weird and it soon became apparent. ¡°It may seem out of place to you all but we meant to summon three heroes and not four,¡± the kingly man added with haste, ¡°so before proceed any further I request that you let us determine if all of you are indeed heroes.¡± ¡®What was that?¡¯ Boris frowned, enraged. He had barely made any sense of the situation and some snobbish man was already asking them something stupid. His friends were as confused as he was. It did not help that some fifteen odd faces looked at them in veneration, with some confusion mixed in. The little girl acted strange, her face pale with disbelief. ¡°Let us not get so hasty, Your Highness. Why don¡¯t we relax and start with introductions and then we¡¯ll slowly see to the other problems.¡± The one to speak was the maiden in white robes. Her voice carried more weight that her stature predicted, making the king grumble under his breath. ¡®Your Highness!¡¯ Boris frowned harder and Ray gulped. ¡°Alright,¡± the king conceded, ¡°I suppose that is one way to do it. Heroes from the other world, I am Durham Dwin Salvem, king of the kingdom of Cumaria, the one who summoned you to save my world from demons. The only way to do so is to defeat the demon lord. Before you, stands my entourage of Royal mages and the archimage Violet.¡± ¡®Oh,¡¯ Boris realized, ¡®I am still asleep. Damn, I should stop napping during lunch break, the school always gives me weird dreams¡­ This one sure is surreal but that demon lord reference gave it away.¡¯ He pinched himself, harder, smacked a little. He did not wake up. So he went ahead and smacked Ray, might as well do it in a dream. Ray turned to him quizzically and Claire punched Boris hard, sending him toppling to the ground. ¡°What are you doing?!¡± she asked in an outrage. ¡°Trying to wake up obviously,¡± he told her as he got back up. ¡°Now get out of my dream, will you?¡± Claire looked at him, thinking a while before punching him again. ¡°Ouch! Stop that!¡± he hissed. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like a dream,¡± she said and turned to Ray. Pinching his own cheeks, Ray nodded in agreement. The little girl in fancy magic robes was snickering now, her cheeks full while she tried to stifle her laughter, her hands gripping her abdomen. Boris did not like a child laughing at him. So he walked up to her, snatched her staff and knocked her head. ¡°Don¡¯t laugh at your elders shorty,¡± he warned her. ¡°S-shorty!¡± the girl¡¯s face turned red, her cheeks now full with anger, her nose billowing steam. ¡°I am Violet, the Royal Archimage of Cumaria,¡± she bellowed. ¡°You will not address me with such insolence!¡± Boris rubbed her head as an apology at which she tried to hit back. Boris held her head firm, preventing her short arms from reaching him as she waved them about. ¡°Cute,¡± Ray uttered before he could think. ¡°Wh-what! You there, how dare you address the high stature of royal archimage as cu¡ª !¡± ¡°That¡¯s enough Violet,¡± the black haired woman flicked her forehead. Violet almost wept. ¡°Elaine!¡± she cried as she jumped into her. The woman held her tenderly. ¡°Now, now,¡± she quieted her as she rubbed her head. It was a moving scene. The audience took out their kerchiefs and wiped the snot from their noses. Once the scene was over, Violet hid behind Elaine, giving Boris a snarl. ¡®How childish,¡¯ Boris thought as he made faces at the impudent brat. Sylvia coughed beside him, prompting him to stop. Elaine faced them and gave a slight bow. ¡°My name is Elaine, the Maiden of Light. It would be my humble pleasure to guide you on your path, heroes. I can see that you are confused and tired. Worry not, we shall allow you to rest and give you all the answers you need.¡± A magnetic charm emanated from her, a dignity beyond compare to others. Ray watched her agape. Claire and Sylvia frowned at Ray, while Boris smiled obliviously. Elaine motioned to the guards to escort the heroes outside. A few people still grumbled. ¡°But Elaine,¡± Violet voiced her resentment. Elaine smiled at her. ¡°Yes?¡± Her aura made a drastic change. The charm died and terror spilled out. Violet paled even as the others drew back. ¡°Any complaints?¡± Elaine asked, hiding a storm of darkness behind her perfect smile. Boris¡¯s smile melted away like plastic. With a desperate shake of their heads, everyone followed Elaine outside. They took the stairway up. It was spiral corridor with wide stone steps, lighted by torches every few feet. The walls were old and grey, probably carved out of stone. The lights did not look natural. The torches held what looked like half-broken eggs and flames danced over it in red swirls. The color itself was unnatural. Steps climbed around the stadium chamber and opened into a small room. The passageway hid into a recess and a slab of stone retracted to cover it. They had been underground. Whatever it was that happened must have been a secret. The situation was weird. Ridiculous. Boris had an inkling by now. It boded upon ill and rested upon unbelievable. What was this place really? The answers came soon. They were in a castle, with towers and spires and passageways. Men marched along the path with swords, spears, pikes and shields. Men in weird armor and solid formations, gathered as if to guard them. With every step the king took, they bowed and offered praise. Durham waved them away with a hand and led them on through a confusing network of shaded passageways. The corridor climbed up and they entered open passages, affording a ridiculous view. Lofty mountains made the background. They scraped the clouds and made the castle seem puny. The castle itself seemed carved against the backdrop of peaks. Carved because the peaks dropped almost vertically, as if shaved off. The air was colder in the open, and Boris drew his arms close in the chill. The castle extended out in a semi-circle, with concentric walls of defense. The innermost part was the tallest, and held two curiously long towers. They hovered in the air without a base, the air around them shimmering like glazed paper. Boris was overwhelmed for words. ¡°That is the centre of air defense, the shielding towers,¡± a bulky man answered when he saw Boris gape. ¡°Do towers float in the air?¡± The man smiled. ¡°No, not usually. Those are enchanted and anchored magically, so that they do not fall to ground offensive.¡± A visible pulse emanated periodically from the tower, travelling along an imaginary hemisphere to the ground. A faint, curious screech travelled up and Boris peered down to catch a glimpse of the largest lizard of his life, complete with wings and a thorny tail. Grown men seemed to struggle like toddlers before it. The scene disappeared as they turned into a hallway. ¡°This is not anywhere on God¡¯s earth,¡± Boris told Ray in a daze. Ray nodded seriously. Something somewhere had gone incredibly wrong. They needed to find out fast. After a while, they sat in a small chamber of the inner castle. A large ovoid table, deep brown and carved of wood, occupied the center. Its polished surface reflected the occupants seated around. The wavy haired king with thick eyebrows sat at the head, his royal garb now visible to sunlight that sneaked in through the glass windows. At his either side were two old coots, looking obsequious and smarmy. They wore a robe of grey and red shawls over it. In the middle sat a towering man in authoritative dress. His coat of deep brown was inlaid with a line of silver, and an insignia of swords crossed over a shield at his left chest. Lines of grey, blue and red intermingled at his shoulders, reaching down to arms. He wore a pristine suit of white and brown trousers that overlooked heavy leather boots. His features were rugged and his skin brown. His eyes commanded a discipline with their brown irises. He sat firm, overlooking the room with a simple gaze. ¡®Probably the military commander,¡¯ Boris gauged. His eyes turned to scan the rest of the room. Violet sat two seats away from the tower man. The difference was stark between them, making Violet look littler. She looked at Boris with open hostility but still shuffled against Elaine, slightly uncomfortable. The other weird men dressed in weird long robes that followed her were gone. Elaine sat by her side, her expression calm and her eyes smiling. The black of her eyes was darker than her hair and it pulled the light in. Boris pulled himself out of her gaze, quite reluctantly at that. She noticed but said nothing. A soldier stood behind her, another towering fellow. There were too many towers in this castle. He wore steel plate armor neck to toe, with his helmet held under his left arm and his right arm free to grasp the sword at his waist. And from the way he glared at Boris he would gladly do so. Boris occupied a seat beside Sylvia, opposite to Elaine. Ray sat between Sylvia and Claire, his usual seat. Elaine coughed when everyone was comfortable, drawing attention. It was unnecessary. Boris was already paying enough attention to her. ¡°Then, let me begin by welcoming you to our world. It is a different world, with different rules and circumstances but I hope you will come to love it. You may choose to gainsay my words but, as you shall see, I speak the truth. Before I speak any further, let us all introduce ourselves. It will help understand the situation. I will answer any questions you have afterwards.¡± She spoke in a candid voice. ¡°I will begin, I am Elaine Sithe, the Maiden of Light, a leader of the Legion of Light, formed to face the threat of demons. You may call me Elaine.¡± It was brief and succinct. And a little absurd, but Boris gladly accepted her words for truth. Such a beauty would not lie. The bratty mage girl followed her. ¡°I am Violet Feyl Farlore, royal archimage and meister of the Sorlock Academy for Magic, adept of four disciplines and twenty year old adult. It was I who magnificently summoned you.¡± Her pitiful chest puffed up and her nose pointed high as she asked for admiration. Boris found it nonsense, especially the adult part. The girl was obviously parading her age, seeing her pitiful height and flat chest. ¡®She should start drinking milk soon or she¡¯ll stay like this forever.¡¯ One look at the girl and three things came to mind, short, flat, ginger head. Violet responded to his rude thoughts with a glare. A spark erupted from her azure eyes and Boris sparked back. Elaine put a hand on Violet and Sylvia on Boris before it could escalate. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The tower in brown coat spoke next. ¡°I am Welmar Wesburn, commander-in-chief of the royal army of Cumaria,¡± he said, surprising Boris by his gruff voice. The voice did not rise or fall, but carried a deep bassy underline. Maybe his throat was bad or maybe his voice was too deep. ¡°I will hopefully be overseeing you for the following days.¡± Why, was a possible question, but Boris knew the answer well. Towering as he was, it was no doubt he would be overseeing them. In fact, his position meant he would be overseeing the entire castle, with its soldiers, towers, and whatnot. The king followed next, eager enough that he jumped over the two old coots to his left. ¡°I am Dorham Dwin Salvem, king of the kingdom of Cumaria, the one who had you summoned to save my world from demons and defeat the demon lord. Before you, st- sits my entourage,¡± he repeated his prosaic lines theatrically, thinking before adding, ¡°and from my left these are my counsels, Rorik, Kailer, Mirak and Bivlon.¡± The old coots each nodded at the mention of their name, their few teeth visible in the smile. Boris immediately decided that these were minor characters, with no role to play. He even wondered why they had faces, a very rude insult that went unsaid when Ray stood up for introduction. ¡°I am Ray Edson,¡± Ray spoke firmly, implying his presence and confidence. ¡°My friends and I come from a world called Earth.¡± It looked like he bought into this being a different world. It was not every day one saw floating towers and giant lizards. His face turned as he addressed each person in the room, his brilliant blonde hair and sharp grey eyes creating a noticeable response. ¡°We are all sixteen years in age, if the measure is the same here, and we are students, or scholars you may say. You can call me Ray.¡± Boris smiled and barely kept himself from clapping. Ray was brilliant as always. his words summed up about all they should let on. He seemed a bit like a narrator than a leader but his features were enough to counter the difference. A long nose, sleek eyebrows, large eyes, a square chin and some beautification added on. Added with a good heart and a considerate personality, it created Ray, a perfect human sample. People admired him. Claire, who deferred her chance to Ray, stood up next. ¡°I am Claire Mayfell, sixteen, girl, student. Call me Claire.¡± A curt introduction. Claire had short-cropped blonde hair and lively brown eyes. She was considerably tall, almost six feet in height with an athletic body. There were slight freckles on her high cheekbones and a dimple on her right cheek. She was a mass of enthusiasm when active and an incarnation of chaos otherwise. Sylvia stood up next. Students had a habit of standing up when they introduced themselves and raising their hands at random times for random purposes. ¡°Sylvia Trish, same. Call me Sylvia.¡± Pithy. Cool. Sylvia had always been cool. She could freeze you in annoyance. Her hair was drawn back in an auburn ponytail. Her trademark eyes were sleek, large and intelligent green. A thin nose and thin lips made her eyes seem even larger. Her skin was fairer than Claire, a result of less outdoor activity. Boris improvised. ¡°Boris Debron, same.¡± Pity. He got some surprised looks, leading him to reframe his words. ¡°I mean same age but a boy, and call me Boris please.¡± Boris himself had a head of brown in double whorls of hair. His face was more round than sharp, except for his nose that stood sharp and straight. His eyes were dull black, and looked dispirited or evil depending on the observer. Right now they looked more sleepy than creepy, a result of his interrupted afternoon nap. The tower behind Elaine spoke last. ¡°I am Arthur Syburd, Knight Guardian under the service of His Highness, the king of Cumaria.¡± The man was stiff, definitely a stickler for rules. His face visible above his armor looked young, in twenties, with streaks of long almost silvery black hair and tempered green eyes. He could give Ray a run for his looks. Boris was about to ask him what he ate to become like this when Elaine spoke, ¡°I am sure you have many questions, please ask.¡± Her eyes scanned them and rested on Ray. ¡°Then, first, where exactly is this and why were we called here?¡± Ray asked. It was always good to get accurate answers to these simple questions. ¡°This place is the conference chamber in the inner part of the imperial castle in the capital city Orin of the kingdom of Cumaria, located in the north eastern border of the southern landmass of Virdia and adjacent parts of the northern landmass of Gelacien. You were summoned as heroes to help us win the next Infernal war against the demons by defeating the demon lord who rules above them.¡± ¡®Too much exact!¡¯ Boris found his head overheating from that information while Sylvia and Ray both nodded, taking it in bit by bit. Claire paid it no heed. ¡°Um, pardon please?¡± Boris asked. ¡°Let me put it this way. You are inside the king¡¯s castle and the king must go to war against the demons, so he summoned heroes to kill their boss, the demon lord.¡± Elaine toned down her explanation to simple and Boris nodded. ¡®Eh? Kill the demon lord?¡¯ Boris thought it absurd. ¡°Miss Elaine,¡± Boris voiced, his hands gesturing, ¡°You maybe got the wrong idea. We are you know, students. Like people, young people, most with a boring routine and little talents. The most we can do is to read a book overnight, or maybe throw a ball very far, or run away. Fight, I mean Claire here can beat me up, but kill the demon lord? We have difficulty killing a mosquito, you know. Where in the right mind did you choose people like us?¡± Boris tried to put it calmly, but the disbelief in his voice spilled out as his eyes widened a bit. It was almost self-deprecating. He got a look of pity, a look of understanding and a look of ridicule. The last one came from Violet. ¡°I see how you think,¡± Elaine replied. ¡°However, we do not choose the heroes. They are chosen by their aptitude and potential. The past heroes also had doubts, but they were all gifted with strong capabilities and so are you.¡± ¡°So you have been repeating this process?¡± Sylvia enquired at the mention of past heroes. ¡°A hundred and nine years, after the death of the demon lord the next one is born about one hundred and nine years later. It has been one hundred and nine years since the last Infernal war ended and the previous demon lord died. We summoned you exactly in time, so you can be prepared to fight.¡± ¡°And if we say no?¡± Claire turned to the king. ¡°You will have to fight,¡± the knight Arthur said gruffly, but Elaine quieted him with a hand. ¡°You have every choice to deny,¡± the king replied, his voice firm, ¡°but I hope you will not. You are our only hope. Against a threat that will come, against a threat we cannot contain. The harmonic races cannot hold their own against the demonic forces, humans much less so. Should you forsake us, we will perish, our nation fall, our people die. Should you join us, I assure you we will kill the demon lord. None but the heroes can actually do so, you have my word on this. ¡°I will not claim to buy you with riches, or threaten you with death. But I can only offer you any support if you join us.¡± It was a clear statement. This was a different world, and much as this world needed help from them, they needed help in this unfamiliar world. ¡°Alright, we will do it,¡± Ray spoke, Claire and Sylvia both nodded. ¡°Huh?¡± Boris almost nodded. He had a bad habit of following Ray because Ray always made sensible decisions. ¡°Are you alright in your mind?¡± he asked Ray. ¡°This not a dream you know, you just offered our heads to demons, on a damn plate.¡± ¡°Calm down Boris, don¡¯t you see how this works?¡± Ray replied. ¡°Yeah, how does this work? Are you the new authority on absurd decisions?¡± ¡°Of course not! Have you never come across this? A different world in trouble, demons, magic, demon king. Isn¡¯t there only one logical choice? Become a hero and kill the demon king.¡± Sylvia and Claire both agreed. There was this stupid confidence in his voice, Boris cringed at it. ¡°Are you really alright with this?¡± ¡°It has always been my dream, my fantasy and I am getting a chance to live it, you know.¡± Ray felt fulfilled and resolved. Boris always knew Ray was slightly crazy. He helped people without thought, worked harder than anyone else and was always positive. That was crazy but people admired him. Well, now people would see the craziness. ¡°How admirable!¡± ¡°Indeed, a great man.¡± ¡°An honorable resolve.¡± Boris struck his head. The people around him were crazy too. They admired Ray even more. ¡°Sylvia?¡± Boris asked, hoping for the most levelheaded person to admonish or at least question Ray. ¡°I will go with Ray,¡± Sylvia answered. She was done for. Claire was already decided, she would never oppose Ray. Boris would have no choice but to stick with the group. Maybe beat some sense into them. ¡°Alright,¡± Boris surrendered, ¡°let me join you.¡± ¡°Of course you are with us,¡± Ray stressed. He always regarded his friends as one. ¡°One last question though,¡± Boris stared into Violet, ¡°how do we return to our world?¡± He was hoping Sylvia would have asked this, she was often the first to notice such problems. The question caught Ray off guard, as if he never wondered about it. ¡°You were summoned under a contract to kill the demon lord and once you fulfill it, you will automatically return to the same time in your world,¡± Violet answered. ¡°You mean no time will have passed between when we came here and when we return?¡± Sylvia asked. ¡°Exactly, I guarantee it on my name as archimage,¡± Violet boasted. ¡°Can you do that shorty?¡± Boris doubted her. ¡°Of course, who do you¡ª you called me shorty?!¡± Violet shouted, anger turning her cheeks red and her eyes sharp. Elaine restrained her gingerly. ¡°Is there no other way?¡± Boris asked, already somewhat dejected. ¡°None that we know of,¡± Elaine answered. Boris knew it had to be this way; there was no escape route. This was what the armored knight meant when he said they would have to fight. ¡°Then,¡± the king looked at Ray, ¡°can I take it that the heroes have accepted our entreaty?¡± ¡°We will do it,¡± Ray replied confidently. ¡°Hurrah!¡± screamed the counsels, drowning the king¡¯s voice. The atmosphere turned jovial. Boris accepted the situation and leaned back in his chair. ¡°So,¡± Boris said, turning to face the king, ¡°you said there were only three heroes, we are four.¡± He dropped the bombshell. ¡°You are right, from what we know there should be only three heroes,¡± the king answered gravely, looking between his counsels as they fidgeted. He turned to Elaine. ¡°Please, do the honors.¡± The counsels squirmed, Violet slumped and Elaine picked up a small case, opening it to produce the contents on the table. ¡°Touch this,¡± Elaine said, pointing at a card that lay at the centre of the table, on a velvet cloth. ¡°It will recognize the heroes.¡± Her voice sounded light, but perhaps a mix of sadness lingered there. Ray stood up, leaned over and touched the card. For a moment nothing happened, then, as if suddenly waking up, the card glowed bright red and radiated brilliance. ¡°The mark of red,¡± Elaine answered, ¡°is for the knight, blessed with courage and strength. You are the sword and the shield. Congratulations.¡± She smiled. Ray smiled back in excitement. ¡°Thank you.¡± The summoning did not just discover the heroes, but also invented them. It chose the most suitable, empowered them and influenced them. It meant that every hero felt a subconscious urge to become one, and the excitement Ray felt was an effect. Even before they accepted the role, they were destined to do so, three of them at least. Claire got up after Ray and touched the card. It brightened once again, turning yellow and warm. ¡°The mark of yellow is for the archer, blessed with swiftness and dexterity. You are the bow and arrow. Congratulations.¡± Heat rose up in Claire¡¯s chest. It was an exhilarating feeling. She beamed and sat next to Ray. Sylvia touched the card next. Boris had relegated himself to being last a while ago. ¡®Ladies first, or so they said,¡¯ he mused, examining the card. It glowed sharp blue. ¡°The mark of blue is for the mage, blessed with intelligence and capacity. You are the staff and the orb.¡± Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief at that, assured that she was a hero. When she looked at Boris her face turned apologetic. Boris chuckled in response. For all they knew, there could have been four heroes. If otherwise, he did not need to work and could enjoy this world at his will. It was a win-win situation. He leaned over and touched the card with a steady hand. The card lay still a moment, then shook violently and crumpled. Boris looked at Elaine, as if asking what it meant. Her expression was dark and somber. He shrugged, thinking it meant he was not a hero and moved back. Heavy silence descended. The king regarded him like he was a cripple. Violet, the archimage girl, showed a blank stare, and the counsels held their faces curious. ¡°He¡¯s an inept,¡± Violet muttered in wonder. ¡°A what?¡± Boris asked her. ¡°An inept,¡± said the king, ¡°meaning you have no talent for magic, no mana and no capacity to acquire it. I am sorry to say you are truly unfortunate. Not only can you not be a hero you cannot even become a soldier. Even commoners can use magic¡­¡± he paused to let the explanation sink, ¡°The card reacts to magic on touch and crumples if there is none. This is the first time I have seen it. I cannot believe inepts still exist.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to make it sound so bad. Aren¡¯t there any other ways to use magic? Like mana stones? Or maybe something that doesn¡¯t require magic, like sword arts?¡± Boris assured him, making the most of his knowledge. ¡°It is worse than it sounds,¡± Violet explained, sympathy visible in her eyes, ¡°We live on magic, our plants have it, our lands have it. Our world thrives on mana. You cannot¡ª¡± ¡°Enough, Violet,¡± the king reprimanded in a loud, heavy voice. Violet stopped, her face pained. Elaine shook her head. Boris licked his lips. The air turned worse, the excitement ebbed and he could palpate the anxiety. Sunlight seemed to hide the darker facets of the room. ¡°It would be in your best interests to keep this fact a secret. This world is not kind to inepts,¡± the king warned him. Boris took his advice to heart, gulping it down. His eyes wavered. Thoughts made it across. From the look on their faces, nobody in the room would say any more. Regardless, there was little he could do. He decided to stay with Ray¡¯s decision. Getting back was impossible for now. And since he was called an inept, he did not know if the kingdom even wanted him. ¡°Then what do you propose for me?¡± he asked Elaine, eager to understand his position. ¡°He will stay with us,¡± the answer came from Ray. He stood up, and the look in his eyes said he would not take a refusal. He swept a firm glance and fixed the king in his stare. ¡°You will allow him all the privileges you allow us, and you will not treat him poorly. Only if you guarantee that, will we cooperate.¡± Sylvia and Claire supported his claim. Boris was taken aback. He was happy to have his friends worry for him, but it was almost a threat. A very poorly framed threat. If the kingdom declined them help, they would be on the roads the next moment. He hoped Ray would have been gentler instead of dictating out demands. The commander Welmar, who had maintained a stern silence all along, got up. He was now more of a tower than ever. He glared at Ray in intimidation. Then he smiled, a tough, approving smile. ¡°You have my word. The kingdom will treat Boris Debron with all due courtesy and without ridicule.¡± An agreement was thus reached. The kingdom accepted Boris as a comrade of the heroes, and promised him the same treatment. In Scifer 1716, year 109 of the Twelfth Era, the kingdom of Cumaria summoned heroes for the sixth time in their history. In an unforeseen incident, they pulled in a bystander, a mistake they refused to mention in their records. ___________ And that''s it. How was that, did you think the dialogues too much? Or do you find something missing? Speak out below. 2. How to train a hero Alright! Here''s the next chapter. It may seem like a.. info dump? Trust me, I could not do away with this. I actually planned to show the magic training in more detail it would turn tooo boring, so I did this. Long story short, it''s a compressed version. So read it and tell how it feels, and what it lacks. [HInt: it does not lack words ;) ] Also,, this gives me somewhat of a clue about how fast I can release. You may expect a chapter between 1-2 week. Not fast I know, but everything needs thinking, writing, editing, pr and ranting etc. etc. Anyway, please read it and leave your exalted reviews and ratings, and comments. That''s all ^^ _____________ 2. How to train a Hero ¡°Let it be known in wisdom staid Make thy hearts firm and fears allayed No gemstone shines bereft of aid Dull whetstone carves sharp edge of blade Harsh toil earns true accolade Nay, heroes are not born but made.¡± The next morning began with the peaceful glint of sunlight at early dawn as the birds started chirruping against the backbeat of silence. The autumn had set in Cumaria and chill would soon start creeping in. Boris slept soundly in his luxurious bed, gripping the pillow in blatant disregard for the twittering outside. His face wore no semblance of worry, breathing softly against the cushions of bed. It was as if nothing had happened last night. The peace, unfortunately, was short lived. Boris was soon dragged out against his will by a manservant, forced to dress up even as his half-drooping eyelids tried to hold their own against drowsiness. A small splash of cold water took care of that, but made him jump out at the cold. His mind jerked as his eyes snapped open trying to find the culprit. But a firm swipe of damp cloth forced them shut only aggravating the chill he felt. ¡°Don¡¯t you have warm water?¡± Boris asked the manservant accusingly. ¡°We do, but we decided to use cold water to wake you up.¡± The servant replied. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Well,¡± the manservant said, fidgeting a bit, ¡°you know, after the other six methods failed, this was the last resort.¡± Incidentally, two of the six methods had involved a beautiful maid, so Boris had missed his lucky chance. Boris climbed down the stairs to the dining hall. The stairs were wooden and softer to the foot. They went across three stories of the building. From the compact design of the rooms and the ordered structure of the hallways, these looked like residential quarters for soldiers or servants. Every room was clean and simple, with one bed and a small balcony. Boris felt more comfortable here, a large opulent room would have left him uneasy. The dining hall stood at the ground floor. It was one of the three large rooms on each side, the fourth side being open to the entrance. Tapestries and banners hung overhead. Large windows opened on one side and the kitchens rested in the corner. The table was large enough to seat fifty people, but mostly vacant. There were no soldiers here, only a few people seated to one side. It seemed the others had gotten up earlier than he had as they sat waiting at the table when he arrived. ¡®Who eats breakfast this early?¡¯ he wondered looking over to his friends who had quickly adapted well. Ray sat at the head of the table, surrounded by Claire and Sylvia on each side. Beside them sat Elaine and Violet, making it so Ray sat engulfed between four girls. ¡®Damn harem king,¡¯ he thought but abandoned his envy. He knew Ray himself held little consciousness of the situation, let alone its appreciation. Boris greeted them as he sat down next to Welmar, the most conspicuous of the occupants. He had abandoned his stately attire for a simple vest and overcoat, both fitting snugly on his towering body. The insignia still clung to his chest. The king was also conspicuous by his absence, apparently having left the responsibility to Welmar. Boris doubted the king would attend such measly gatherings anyway. They had a small breakfast of bread, eggs and milk. There were fruits, identical to apples but with a distinct sour aftertaste. Surprisingly, this world had similar foods. Welmar turned and explained that he needed to train them to par, if they were to face the demon lord soon. Ray agreed and remarked that they should get started soon. ¡°We¡¯ll get started today itself,¡± Welmar assured, then turned to face Boris, ¡°Then, what will you do Boris?¡± ¡°Let me at least join them, I¡¯ll drop out if the training is beyond me.¡± ¡°So it shall be.¡± Welmar took them on an early tour of the castle. He jogged around leisurely, others following him in descending order of height. Ray was, as usual, switched between Claire before him and Sylvia behind him. Boris was the last one, his height was on par with Sylvia but he had no intention of standing behind Ray. Sylvia would him freeze over if he did that. The castle was built in three different tiers. The place they had stayed was in the innermost and the highest tier, also called the King¡¯s Repose. It was the oldest part of the castle and had gradually come to house only the royalty and their close retainers. The court occupied the center and a miscellany of structures occupied the other parts. The two curious towers floated on either side of it, holding the air defenses. They descended a spiral corridor of stairs through a bastion at the outskirts of the King¡¯s Repose. It led to a bridge that covered a moat of flowing water. Welmar said that it was built for mage defenses, something about a source of water being necessary for large water spells. The bridge itself descended into the second tier and could be swung magically on a pillar base for blocking access to the innermost tier. Glyphs sat on the floor and roof for obvious purposes. The second tier was where most of the population dwelt. It favored stone heavily and lacked the aristocratic embellishments. Towers and spires punctuated this part and passages convoluted into a thousand directions, creating a confusing meshwork of structures. The main street led along multiple defenses and embankments that employed patrol. They diverged into soldiers¡¯ quarters, armories, smithing establishments, dining halls and other buildings. The second tier also held the cells underground, a dangerous place to get lost as Welmar warned them. Boris had no intention of going down to the third tier. He was already beginning to tire and he could only wince at the amount of effort it would require to climb back all the way up. Before him, Ray and Claire were barely out of breath, even Sylvia seemed to hold her own well. Boris frowned a little at the obvious discrimination, the summoning had clearly favored the heroes. He held on however, hoping to finish the first day with dignity. The third tier turned out to be nothing special. Just thicker walls and more bastions and bridges and arches and soldiers. Boris could only wonder how paranoid the king was to employ so much security and defenses. Or was the threat this bad? Surely that was not possible? Boris was lost in thoughts and panting lightly as Welmar took them back a different route, this one turned out to be shorter to his relief. At the end of the tour, they stood in a large empty hall, floored with dark red carpets and topped by a high ceiling. Pillars of wood upheld the structure on their thick trunks. Dummies, stuffed with straw and supported on wooden stands, encircled some pillars. The walls were equipped with a variety of weapons including swords, staves, daggers and chains. They hung, organized by size and type, at a height which could easily be reached by the ladders strewn across the floor. Welmar walked across them to a rather large platform in the centre, raised half a feet above nearby ground and padded in mats. He pulled out some light leather armor from one of the shelves and offered it to everyone. ¡°This is the combat hall. Here, you will trained in combat,¡± he said, repeating the same subject ad nauseam, ¡°so that you can be combat ready when the time comes. Until I say otherwise, none of you will be allowed to use weapons. Now, before I begin teaching you I would like to assess where you stand.¡± He walked up to the circular platform and climbed up. It was evidently a training ring. ¡°Get in,¡± he motioned to everyone, ¡°let¡¯s spar.¡± There was a bit of confusion before Ray and his friends got in, wearing the armor they had been offered. ¡°You want us to attack?¡± Claire asked Welmar. Welmar stood up and bent his knees a bit, his fists raised in a combat stance. ¡°Come at me with everything you¡¯ve got,¡± he spurred them, ¡°or you¡¯ll regret it.¡± Ray sprung into action, darting towards Welmar. His stance crudely mirrored that of a boxer as he got ready to throw a straight punch. Welmar shifted inside swiftly and sent Ray toppling by the flick of his foot before the fist had connected. ¡°Keep your feet firm and your stance stable,¡± he cautioned Ray, ¡°you can¡¯t hit if you can¡¯t stand.¡± Claire came roaring at Welmar from behind. She jumped right before he turned to face her and extended her feet to kick him right in the face. She was fast but Welmar grabbed her by the ankles as he pivoted on his right foot. He used the momentum to swing her around once while she screamed, and threw her right into Ray. Ray was shocked as he stumbled back, grabbing Claire by her back. ¡°Never jump high, not unless you can maneuver yourself in the air,¡± Welmar lectured a blushing Claire. Boris launched right after and kicked at Welmar¡¯s feet, Welmar withdrew creating an opening in which Boris pushed his shoulder into Welmar¡¯s belly. The shoulder met no resistance as Welmar tilted sidelong, and shoved Boris to a fall by his own momentum. ¡°Never use shoulders and head in combat, unless it¡¯s an emergency. Sparring is not brawling.¡± He glowered at Boris, while Sylvia took this opportunity to circle around him and hit him squarely between the legs. Boris winced and Ray watched in horror as Welmar turned to face Sylvia, his face a mask of plastic. He raised his hands and Sylvia guarded her face in worry. ¡°One point for that,¡± Welmar told her, raising his index finger while he smiled, ¡°but don¡¯t practice that move on men. They will die.¡± ¡°Do you have balls of steel?¡± Boris asked in astonishment. ¡°I have the common sense to use a groin guard Boris, and trust me, it works better than balls of steel.¡± Boris and Ray laughed heartily at that comment and proceeded frankly to ask for groin guards themselves. ¡°Alright, I get the gist of your abilities.¡± Welmar told them, ¡°I would like to teach you some combat arts but it seems you are not yet used to your bodies. Some amount of practical combat will take care of that.¡± He began said practical combat by beating up each one of them in good measure and sending them flying across the floor, which was thankfully cushioned well for impact. They would get up again and try to lash back at him only to experience the bittersweet floor as it nudged them back. Boris tried desperately to knock him back but Welmar got stronger as time progressed, apparently showing his true potential. While Ray and Claire had held their ground throughout the ordeal, Sylvia was tired and Boris was down with breathlessness. ¡°Hmm,¡± Welmar looked at the bodies sprawled around him at last, ¡°let us stop here for now. Go take your baths. I will pick you up again in the evening.¡± Boris felt relieved until he heard that last sentence. ¡°Again?¡± he asked ruefully. ¡°No complaints, Boris.¡± Welmar reminded him. They gathered in a smaller room next with four chairs arranged around a low makeshift table and fifth chair at the helm. The beds had been rearranged to create space. It was already noon and the sun had climbed high, but air drafted lazily through the windows, lapping the curtains against the wall and making their shadows dance. It was cool autumn air saturated with drowsiness and Boris was in dreamland when Violet entered the room. She tapped his head irritatingly with her staff but he just brushed her away saying, ¡°Let me sleep before shorty comes.¡± Violet turned red at his comment, she snarled, ¡°Is that so?¡± then chuckled ominously as she conjured a ball of water to splash into his head. Boris was appalled as he experienced the cold touch of water for the second time and sat up abruptly. Ray stared at him as if he deserved it and Claire laughed at his dripping face. Violet courteously dried his face by strong draft that seemed to blow his hair off his head. ¡°There, now that you are washed and alert, it¡¯s time to study,¡± she added threateningly. Boris was beginning to realize that shorty was indeed an excellent mage, or an archimage, as she called herself. The doubt about her age was also beginning to resurface. If she really was twenty years old then it was pity, for her. Once they had settled down, Violet began her lessons. ¡°Magic is, to put it simply, the ability to bend natural phenomenon to one¡¯s will. Like creating a fire,¡± Violet said as she lit up a small fireball on her finger, ¡°without fuel, or conjuring up water out of air.¡± The fireball extinguished as a small globule of water formed in its place, swirling in the sunlight. ¡°Most of the magic you conjure can also be wished away.¡± She flicked her fingers and the water rose, gliding while it dissipated into air. ¡°There are broadly three types of magic recognized. Basic, assisted and unorthodox. Elemental magic is a good example of basic magic. The only thing you need for basic magic is enough mana and imagination, no spells, no orbs, no scrolls. Plain, simple magic.¡± She once again lit up a small flame. ¡°Theoretically, basic magic can do everything but as things get complicated, it becomes difficult to control and thus inefficient, even dangerous.¡± The flames divided again and again creating a row of lights until finally those at the end wobbled and burst away before extinguishing. ¡°Assisted magic was developed to make it easier to cast basic magic. It restricts the versatility of magic but casting becomes easy and fluid, and it can be specialized to suit the mage. All assisted magic involves spells or invocations and sometimes, a specialized casting aid. As for the unorthodox magic, only know that the summoning glyph used to summon you was an unorthodox magic. It is too complicated to explain now.¡± Violet was pleased to see everyone listening intently. She smiled inwardly and it soon spread to her blushing cheek and curling lips. She coughed to hide her joy and continued, ¡°I will begin by teaching you basic magic. Boris, do not try to imitate this. As for the rest of you, learn it well; it is the basis to every other type of magic. To begin with you need to feel your mana,¡± she told them and then pondered thoughtfully for a while as she rubbed her fingers on her chin. ¡°None of you have experienced mana before, have you?¡± ¡°No we haven¡¯t,¡± Sylvia replied as the rest shook their heads. ¡°Hold on, this might hurt a bit,¡± Violet breathed in and held her staff high casting a spell, the moon-mix crystal gleamed with a silvery sheen and suddenly it was darkness, and silence. ¡°I want you to feel it,¡± Violet¡¯s voice echoed, ¡°your heartbeat, the flow of your blood and your mana, it flows along with blood but is colder, less palpable. Again Boris, you will understand but do not attempt anything, this lesson is meant for the others.¡± The voice drowned in silence again. It was innocuous yet disturbing. There was nothing to be heard and nothing to be seen, just emptiness. Then Boris started hearing it, as did the others. His heart beat wildly against his chest, conspicuous by its rhythm. He could hear the beat as it traversed through him, along his arms and legs. It beat against his temples, rising and falling, it tapped at his fingertips, bulging and receding. It was everywhere, in his mind and in his eyes. It was disquieting and yet it was natural. As Boris tried to feel his blood flow, he could feel something else along with it. It was cold and hollow, it resounded with the blood flow. It felt as if it would flourish if he could just squeeze at it a little harder and he did so, trying to squeeze it all the way through to his finger tips. Anticipation gave way to excitement as Boris squeezed a bit harder, sure that this was a mana vessel, but it twisted and squeezed back as Boris screamed in agonizing pain that flared through his body, making it cramp and crushing his heart. ¡°Alright, stop!¡± Violet shouted at him. His vision was blurry, his breathing erratic. He could make out his friends around him, Sylvia somehow had a fireball lit on her finger while his whole body felt on fire. Boris collapsed as they tried to help him up, losing consciousness. When he woke up, Boris was in one of the beds, Violet standing beside him. Her face had a difficult look, it was mixture of anger and worry; her forehead wore creases of tension while her blue eyes stared sternly. She had been casting healing magic on him for a while. ¡°Are you alright, Boris?¡± Sylvia sat behind Violet, as did Ray and Claire. They seemed worried as well. ¡°Hmm, I feel great, sorry for worrying you.¡± Boris sat up from his bed, feeling refreshed. He received a cold, hard knock by Violet¡¯s staff. ¡°That was extremely dangerous,¡± she warned him, ¡°Never, ever, ever attempt to use magic. Have you forgotten you¡¯re an inept? If I find you trying to use magic again, I will ban you from all further classes, do you understand?¡± ¡°I am sorry, it won¡¯t happen again,¡± Boris replied honestly. ¡°As long as you understand.¡± Lunch was served soon after. Welmar had left for official business so there were only six people at the dining table, including Violet and Elaine. Violet was still angry at the stunt Boris had pulled during the lesson. She complained stubbornly to Elaine, who listened somberly. Ray interceded with how Boris had collapsed at the end, posing questions about his health. ¡°Are you alright Boris? Please refrain from reckless actions, your body is weaker than the others.¡± Elaine joined his worrywart friends. ¡°Oh, uh, please don¡¯t worry. I am feeling great actually, it¡¯s nothing that bad.¡± ¡°It is bad,¡± Elaine stressed, ¡°you fainted. Your health is a great concern to us.¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling fine,¡± Boris retorted rather harshly. He did want a hue and cry over a little fainting and he was sure not to repeat the mistake. The event only put his powerless nature into perspective, and he felt irritated when it was dug at. Elaine twitched her brows slightly at this but soon returned to her composure, ¡°We shall see,¡± she uttered. She didn¡¯t talk anymore during lunch. Boris felt something ominous from her silence. ¡®Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have talked like that,¡¯ he thought. But it was too late for regrets. Elaine accompanied them back to the same room after lunch. There was large sheet of paper inscribed in strange symbols sitting on the table. A small blue orb sat in its center, shining dully in the sunlight. They took their seats around the table, Ray across Elaine, Claire and Sylvia on his either side. Boris reached for his chair but his leg caught in the ground and he stumbled back, crashing the chair to the ground. Ray raised an eyebrow at his behavior and Boris feigned nonchalance. ¡°What¡¯s the matter Boris, surely you¡¯re feeling alright.¡± Elaine was courteous but her tone carried a cold chill which unnerved Boris. It was worse than the splash of water he had experienced earlier. Even Ray shuddered at her voice. ¡°Ah. Hahaha,¡± Boris laughed dryly, ¡°It¡¯s alright Miss Elaine, I am alright.¡± ¡°Then please do take a seat.¡± Boris proceeded to do the same as he propped the chair up and leaned back, raising a knee to stabilize himself. The knee hit the table and he shouted in pain, covering it with both hands. The people around him watched curiously. It seemed unnatural, humorous even, except for Boris. ¡°Oh, that looks painful,¡± Elaine spoke in mock sympathy, ¡°does it hurt?¡± By now both Ray and Sylvia had some cue to what was going on, but they opted to remain silent. ¡°Ahaha. Nope, not one bit. I am feeling great,¡± Boris replied stubbornly. He sat forward, extending his elbow to support his chin and screamed like a girl as the elbow hit the table¡¯s edge. He looked at Elaine but she smiled politely, a monstrous aura hiding at her back. ¡°I am sorry!¡± Boris relented pathetically, ¡°It was my bad to talk so harshly before. Please forgive me, o maiden of light.¡± ¡°Whatever do you mean Boris?¡± Elaine asked deceptively. ¡°I mean I am sorry, just don¡¯t punish me anymore. Please.¡± ¡°Such devotion. May the Divine hear your repentance and forgive your sins.¡± The next time Boris sat, with extreme caution, there were no more accidents. He thanked the Divine and made a mental note never to cross Elaine. ¡®This girl¡¯s as scary as the devil.¡¯ Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°I will be teaching you about general knowledge,¡± Elaine began once Boris was seated, ¡°which means nearly everything and anything that is common sense in this world. How we eat, how we dress, how we sleep, how we live and how we die. About races and kingdoms and where they belong and what they do. Just about everything else your curious minds can think up. I want you to remember that the purpose of this is not to make you a hero but to make sure you can survive, so it would not do if you try to sleep and ignore my lessons. Is that clear, Boris?¡± She asked coolly, but her eyes said otherwise. ¡°Yes, very clear, Miss Elaine. I¡¯m all alert.¡± ¡°Then look here,¡± she pointed at the table which glowed a while before everything became dark. It was favorite pastime of these people to summon darkness, Boris thought. A holographic image floated before him, it looked like a map. ¡°What is this magic?¡± Boris asked in admiration. ¡°Oh, it seems to have caught your eye,¡± Elaine raised an eyebrow, ¡°Indeed it is a highly prized unorthodox magic called Illusory magic.¡± ¡°So, it can create illusions, like changing appearance or altering perception?¡± ¡°Just so.¡± Elaine confirmed. ¡°Then can it make people misjudge their surroundings, making them see the ground higher up or the table further away than it is?¡± Boris asked, feigning innocence. Elaine chuckled softly at his question, ¡°What are you insinuating? Surely you don¡¯t mean to say that I had a hand in your silly antics a while ago? Or is it that your repentance was shallow?¡± ¡°Absolutely not,¡± Boris panicked as he answered, ¡°I was just curious about the versatility of your magic.¡± ¡°Please try not to digress during lessons. Now look at the image.¡± There were two landmasses on the map, only a portion of each visible, connected by a broad stalk of land and otherwise surrounded by water. The western part extended beyond the map boundaries. ¡°This is our world. The lands in north form Gelacien and those down south are part of Virdia. They are named after their geography. Gelacien is colder, harsher while Virdia is more pastoral. This is just our knowledge, though. Because Demonic races govern Gelacien, most of it is uncharted territory. The southern parts of Gelacien once belonged to Harmonic races but the last demon lord claimed them as his own, and it has since stayed so. The only exceptions are some of the southeastern segments, as we shall see.¡± ¡°This strip of land is called the Hero¡¯s Sojourn,¡± as she pointed the map expanded to focus on the stalk of land joining Gelacien and Virdia, ¡°a place of importance to many great heroes of the past. The Widows peaks course the Hero¡¯s sojourn, entering Gelacien from Virdia. They are a tall, precipitous range of snow-capped mountains that extend eastward in Virdia and sink into Anatheim sea, creating the Spines of Sik. And this,¡± she pointed to the south of Hero¡¯s sojourn, ¡°is where we are. The eastern half of Hero¡¯s sojourn is ours, including the Widows peaks. Our territory expands into south-eastern Gelacien, and the rest of our kingdom lies in northeastern Virdia.¡± The map zoomed in further to Cumaria. ¡°To our west is Sturmhelm, nation of stormtroops and wyverns, occupying the rest of the Hero¡¯s sojourn; to our east lies the Anatheim Sea, with rowdy tides and ruthless monsters, and shipwrecks and corpses. Both of these places are very poor choices for vacation, unless you like bloodshed and gore,¡± Elaine added dryly. ¡°Aren¡¯t we allies with Sturmhelm? We share the frontier to Gelacien,¡± Sylvia asked, paying keen attention to the details. ¡°We are allies or rather, we are partners in defeat. We both lost huge chunks of territories to demons in the last Infernal war, and resigned to ally to save what was left of us. We don¡¯t exactly see eye to eye though, and our treaties are antique decorations, mostly,¡± Elaine clarified. ¡°That¡¯s a bitter way to put it. So we are not friends with Sturmhelm, we just have common enemies.¡± ¡°Quiet so,¡± Elaine continued, ¡°Further south we have Sumaria, a daughter nation that split off in the aftermath of the last Infernal war. Part of our southern border also overlies Cylia, the nation of Elves. Regardless of the past, we have friendly relations with both these nations.¡± ¡°I¡¯m guessing it has to do with us being the only thing keeping them from demon attacks.¡± ¡°Something like that. But enough about diplomacy. If you look closely you will see a second range of mountains that rise south of Heroes¡¯ sojourn, the Shadows of Sik. They form the backdrop of our castle towards the east. The Shadows of Sik provide us with a huge portion of resources and huge menace of monsters, they are what you would call a necessary evil.¡± She stopped suddenly, ¡°Let us stop here for today. We will talk about the races next time.¡± She dispelled the magic and the room came alive once more, with sunlight and gentle breeze and footsteps. Welmar had walked in and stood behind Ray. ¡°Are you finished Lady Elaine? A pity, I wanted to see more of it.¡± ¡°Maybe next time, for now how about you take our heroes to training.¡± They ended the day with another session of practical combat, a euphemism for Welmar beating them up. A sumptuous dinner preceded a much-needed sleep. With the exhaustion accrued during the day, it only took Boris a moment to drift away into sleep. ____________ The second day began with a repetition of the day before. Boris, dragged out of his bed by a manservant, was late for breakfast. Welmar took them on a route around the castle, running them hard in the autumn breeze. They entered the training hall and Welmar started them on combat stances. He focused on the torso and legs and taught them how to stabilize their center of balance. As long as the legs were wide enough and posture was correct, the risk of falling was low. He demonstrated different stances while attacking and defending, correcting their postures when they imitated him. A sparring session followed. Ray did not topple over and Boris could actually land a few hits, though Welmar contained them easily. Claire was swifter and sharper, her hits had started landing on Welmar but dealt little damage. Sylvia chose to be efficient, landing fewer but more capable hits. Welmar then upped the difficulty level and it seemed everything before had been a play. Once again, the floor became the default position in which Boris lay. Violet continued teaching magic. ¡°There are six popular forms of elemental magic,¡± she explained, ¡°fire, water, earth, air, lightning and yin.¡± She held her hand in front and cupped her fingers. A small fireball lit up in her palm, it was then doused by an orb of water which was soaked into a hardened muddy crust that broke apart as a small vortex emerged from within. ¡°The yin,¡± she said as the vortex calmed down to form a small translucent ball, ¡°is refined mana. It can exert force,¡± she tried to crush the ball but it resisted, like rubber, ¡°or apply restraint.¡± The ball finally sprouted threads that looped around her fingers in a knot and pulled them in. ¡°It is the most versatile of basic magic, easy to learn but difficult to master.¡± ¡°There are other types of basic magic, but the three of you should practice these first.¡± Violet told Ray, Sylvia and Claire. She forbade Boris from any further attempts at magic as she proceeded to tell the others how to invoke elemental magic. ¡°Integral to all magic is creating a cast, a premeditated form of mana,¡± Violet explained, ¡°You have learnt to sense your mana. Now you need to extrude it, push it through your arms, imagine it forming a clump in your hand.¡± ¡°Very good,¡± she remarked as she saw them practice, ¡°now just imagine an elemental affinity, fire for example. Don¡¯t worry, it will not burn you.¡± Boris watched spellbound, seeing fantasy unfold as his friends lit up a small flame. Sylvia had already done that in her last lesson so she proceeded to conjure water instead. ¡°Great,¡± she praised the three heroes, ¡°you are all quick on uptake. Now stop your mana flow, force it shut.¡± The flames extinguished in wisp, without a smoke. The water slowly dispersed away. ¡°There you see, even after a conjuration some amount of mana goes in sustaining it, depending on your cast. The moment you stop your mana flow the cast starts to degrade, the poorly formed casts specially degrade fast as you saw. This is how you dismiss basic magic.¡± ¡°The efficacy of basic magic depends strongly on the cast, if you want a larger effect, create a larger cast. Geometric casts are more stable than clumps. I want you to refine your casts to spheres and cubes as a part of today¡¯s training.¡± By the end of the second class, all the heroes could create small elemental effects. Boris could not, but he had a good imagination to understand how it worked and he contented himself with it. Elaine¡¯s classes turned to races. The holographic images she projected left strong practical impressions. ¡°There are five common Harmonic races, if we exclude the outliers. Dwarves, elves, scythians, pixars and humans. This is a dwarf,¡± Elaine pointed to the holographic image of a small, stubby figure that had the height of a child but the features of an adult. He wore a helmet over his face, covering his ears and outlining his eyebrows. His hair was thick and wavy, complemented by a dense moustache and long beard. ¡°They have stout but strong physiques. They are gifted with a strong affinity for earth and fire and make the best metallurgists. Dwarves often inhabit hostile environments near volcanoes and hot springs, which they utilize for forging metals and enchantments. They have no equal in this regard.¡± True to the description, the dwarf in the image held an imposing axe across his shoulder. ¡°The male dwarves are known for long beards and heavy moustaches, while the females sport hair in ponytails.¡± The picture changed to a female dwarf who had her hair tied back into a ponytail that flung back on her left shoulder. The model vanished, replaced by a taller, more petite individual who stood in a white shirt and loose pants, a long overcoat extended to his thighs. His nose was sharp, his ears long and pointed and his eyes were narrow. His features gleamed with intelligence and elegance. Fine, combed hair flowed down to his shoulders. It looked like an archetypical elf from fantasy. ¡°An Elf?¡± Ray remarked. ¡°Indeed,¡± Elaine answered, ¡°Elves are a magically gifted race. They have a longer lifespan and greater innate talent at magic than any other race. They hold a strong affinity with nature and native elements of their homeland and excel at wards and alchemy. They are the least gifted in physical strength but their agility and magical aptitude more than makes up for that.¡± Elaine looked around as everyone listened in, making no gesture of surprise or curiosity. ¡°You all seem used to this?¡± She asked. ¡°Well, how do I say this, we kind of expected it. This is fantasy after all,¡± Ray responded. ¡°Fantasy?¡± Elaine was curious. ¡°They are fictitious accounts of imaginary worlds with no basis in reality,¡± Sylvia explained, ¡°Our world has a lot of them. They even described elves and dwarves in similar manner.¡± ¡°So you read about them in fairy tales as imaginary creatures?¡± ¡°Kind of. Now that I think, it is entirely possible that some of the older heroes were summoned from our world went back and wrote about your world, making it into fantasy.¡± ¡°That is a good guess Miss Sylvia. Then have you also heard about Scythians and Pixars?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ Alright. Scythians are a race of warriors and hunters,¡± Elaine explained, ¡°They are augmentators, gifted with the ability to enhance their own strength and reflexes. This makes them lethal in close combat but their aptitude at magic is poor otherwise. Our king hires a lot of them from Sturmhelm, as personal guards and chefs. They make amazing food.¡± The scythian displayed before them looked tall and athletic. His hair was closely cropped. His brows were thick and his eyes sharp, an aquiline nose stood between them. Large ears perched on either side and thick lips overlaid a prominent chin covered with stubble. His neck was wide and muscular, a pattern on the left side of it. He wore armor that covered his body and a metal plate over his forehead. He would look like a bouncer if he shaved and a pirate if he grew out his hair and beard. Boris smiled as he made that comparison. The image soon vanished from before him and something else stood in its place. ¡°These are pixars,¡± Elaine¡¯s tone was darker now, cautionary, ¡°if you ever have the misfortune of meeting one, run. Do not confront them, do not offend them, keep as far as you can and when you can, run.¡± The description did not match at all. The beings in question were smaller than the dwarf before, and looked even more harmless. Their features were childlike and the only difference was perhaps the wings, which looked like out of a fairy costume. They were translucent and glittery, arranged in two pairs like that of a butterfly. ¡°They look innocent,¡± Claire observed. ¡°They do, don¡¯t they? They have small statures and cute faces. Even population wise, pixars are a small race. Their own nation is unknown, though they inhabit many other nations. Their talents lie in espionage, subterfuge and assassinations. They are twisters, blessed with unorthodox magic capable of enormous harm, and yet inconspicuous and untraceable. Even the demons were wary of them when they took part in the war. I doubt you will ever get to meet them, they prefer obscurity, but if you do, even if you become the strongest of heroes, exercise caution.¡± Then she sighed, as if no amount of warning could portray their danger, and dispelled the magic. Elaine continued, ¡°Finally there are humans, the youngest of the races. Their history is short and unclear beyond a certain point. Their race is a jack of all but a master of none. They have some affinity for all types of magic and can adapt most others to suit themselves. Alchemy, metallurgy, augmentation, twisting, humans have learned it all to some extent. Humans have no unique magical trait, but the capability to adapt magic is specific to them.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t we humans?¡± Claire asked. The way Elaine described humans looked as if they were just another race. ¡°Well, you are and you aren¡¯t. Your features all match with humans but you are from a completely different world. Still, most of the past heroes have been similar and some of them learnt arcane magic beyond imagination. So while you may consider yourself weak, you possess the greatest potential.¡± Elaine reassured them. ¡°There many minor Harmonic races like Hepturans and Knols, but they are rare and most live far from our borders. You will know if you come across them but they are not as important to remember.¡± Elaine concluded. ¡°And what of demonic races?¡± Boris asked, interested in the portrayal of demons. ¡°We know little about demonic races, except for those that we faced over the frontier and those that spill over into our lands from time to time. The most common of them are goblins and orcs, known for raiding fields and attacking small settlements. Then there are trolls and ogres. They often attack travelers and merchants, wreck carriages and obstruct mining in the distant north. Only the frontier deals with them, of course. Records of the previous Infernal wars narrate bestial races, not anymore our problem. Myths and lore speak of many others. Of titans and fiends, but there''s no evidence to back them.¡± ¡°Only those?¡± Boris enquired, ¡°What about slimes and ugly spiders and giant serpents?¡± ¡°Those are monsters not demons.¡± ¡°Are they different?¡± ¡°Of course they are. Demons possess a higher level of consciousness like us. Monsters are like animals, only more powerful and in possession of magic.¡± ¡°And dragons?¡± Boris asked, hopeful of finding the greatest of creatures in fantasy. ¡°Dragons!¡± Elaine exclaimed, ¡°How do you know of them?¡± ¡°Well, they were in our fairy tales.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± she breathed a sigh of relief, ¡°I don¡¯t know how they were in your fairy tales, Boris but here, dragons are l. They are looked upon as demons, though they never participated in the Infernal war, and they are powerful, powerful beyond thought. People say they possess the most powerful of arcane magic, the dragon tongue. Their words, their language, hold irrefutable power. They can kill you with words, literally¡­. Only one hero in our history has ever defeated a dragon, and he did not return unscathed¡­.¡± She shook her head in disbelief, ¡°Nobody knows much about them but know that dragons are unlike anything you have witnessed and fortunately for us, they like to remain alone and undisturbed. If we had to fight them, I would say our races would perish.¡± ¡°So I won¡¯t get to see dragons?¡± Boris asked, he was rather eager to ride a dragon once. ¡°No you won¡¯t. Consider it your good luck. We do not know where they dwell and if we did, we would avoid them like hellfire.¡± ¡°Then what about that giant lizard with wings I saw on my first day,¡± Boris asked curiously about the sight he had registered. It had seemed like a dragon, ruthless but tame. Elaine pondered a while before she could understand what Boris was asking. ¡°That was a wyvern, they are lizards that can fly and can be tamed. Dragons, are a catastrophe, if you have ever seen one.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Boris remarked blithely, still unsure what she really meant. ¡°So you get it now. That is all for today¡¯s lesson. Look, Commander Welmar is ready to take you back.¡± Elaine pointed to the door where Welmar stood. Welmar took them through the usual routine of demonstration and sparring. He demonstrated simple blocks and counters, having them repeat after him. Ray and Claire picked them intuitively and were soon employing them but Boris and Sylvia took time getting used to it, after constant lecturing from Welmar. The second day was over before they knew it. A whole week went by similarly. It was rinse and repeat for the four of them. Welmar taught them more about stances and moves during combat. Ray improved by leaps and bounds, he could easily hold up to Welmar for a few minutes. Claire became faster, more agile and sharper. She could almost vanish before attacking, which made her deadly. Sylvia also showed remarkable improvement, though her style was mostly calculated and precise as opposed to Ray¡¯s strength and Claire¡¯s speed. Even Boris could feel a change, he felt stronger, more confident, but he could hardly hold a candle to others. The progress they showed in a week was comparable to months of training, even Welmar had accepted the fact. Violet improved upon their magic. She had them practice until the heroes could manipulate casts freely. There were five elemental forms¡ª A trail of fire, an orb of water, a cube of earth, a streak of lightning and vines of yin. Every cast could be launched to a distance, though it suffered some decay with time. The most problematic, as Boris observed, was lightning. It could not be launched like a fireball and sustaining it often left his friends sweating and tired. The easiest method was to just cast it in a line and hope it went straight towards the target. And it did that mightily fast, providing no chance to evasion. Sylvia showed an immense grasp of the topic, better than Ray and far beyond Boris. She could easily wield the six basic elemental effects. Boris lagged behind severely, being an inept. He was still interested in magic and Violet took tenderly to his interest. She dedicated some extra time helping him understand the basics that confused him. Boris was finally beginning to feel some respect for the little mage. As it turned out, she was actually a genius and was really twenty years of age. Boris could only remark that all her nutrients went to her mind instead. That earned him a few water showers and wind whirls. Elaine¡¯s classes skimmed over races, geography, professions and economy before turning to history and lore. Boris found more and more inclination to sleep in her classes but the horror of what he experienced the first day kept him awake. Elaine did keep a vigilant eye on him, a rather sharp one. Just like that, Boris pulled through the week resolutely, hoping that he would soon get a chance to catch up. But chance had failed him. ____________ Yes, this is it! I am so glad you read till here. Well then, until next time. Leave your opinions below please. 3. Ineptitude Surprise!! This a record for breaking my promise, I released (too) early. But good reasons, 1-this chapter has been gathering dust for a while so I thought why not? (I swear my lucky holiday had nothing to do with it.) 2-Your comments are encouraging, and I understand Boris seems somewhat pathetic. So sorry, but I made him some more. :( I mean it''s better to get it all bad in one go, isn''t it? There are a few reasons, 1-I have no powerful back story, he will have to learn 2-I want to show the discrepancy 3-Sadly, I have written too much in a linear plotline, yet to employ timeskips well. I hope to rectify that but it will take time. But! This is him at his lowest. Beyond this, I promise to uplift him from decent>good>great>??? As for when, let''s say he will be good by ch10-11, (some good signs in ch8-9 but most later) I apologize because the story is slow. But it is getting in gear. Please leave your comments ^^ ____________ 3. Ineptitude ¡°Cast not a doubt on Elven blood Nor seek to spurn a Dwarf of mud Never rob a Scythian¡¯s trust on word A Pixar¡¯s secrets are best not stirred Touch no mischief on Human God And tranquil you shall have unflawed.¡± Commander Welmar strode through the central garden, climbing the steps up the flowerbed. Wintersins and Toilfalls sprouted in rows of blue and yellow, giving way to Regal Roses at the top. Well-pruned trees stood beside them. Erunes and Berubens were a favorite of the gardeners, while Timildas and Fulbirs stood in fruit-laden satisfaction at odd intervals. He skirted the fountain to climb up the porch where the king stood, enjoying the aesthetics of his garden. ¡°Did you call for me, Your Majesty?¡± ¡°Welmar,¡± the king turned to him slowly, hands wrapped behind his long cape, ¡°come forth, let us have a talk.¡± Welmar walked forward in proper courtesy, acknowledging the command before he stood at the edge of the porch. One could see the entire central garden from here, a large matrix of colors that spread about in vivid designs, each complemented by a pleasant scent. Openings that stood in between, with a shade of Beruben pruned like an umbrella above. ¡°Is there something you desire, Your Highness?¡± Welmar asked, deferential. It was difficult to portray respect when the other party stood at shoulder height, demanding of you to look up to them while you looked down. ¡°How do our guests fare Welmar? I have heard you taught them well for a week.¡± The King looked down upon the curtain of roses that surrounded the porch, magical in their faint morning glow. The fountain ahead spun in its design, the swirling umbrella of water glinting with shade of rose red sunlight. Welmar took a moment himself, pondering how to answer. ¡°They are exceptional. The heroes have displayed inconceivable improvement in their abilities. The likes of them I have yet to see,¡± he paused a while, ¡°the fourth one, well, he does put in effort but his progress suffers¡­¡± He put in a vague answer for Boris. Dorham looked at him with questioning eyes before starting, ¡°I have no interest in the inept, Welmar. Know that well,¡± he spoke dryly, ¡°If it were not for your word, I would have deigned it unnecessary to provide for him. He is, after all, a burden for the heroes. I do not want him becoming a hindrance too.¡± ¡°Forgive my impertinence sire, but the heroes think otherwise. It would not be wise to throw him away when they see him as a friend.¡± Welmar himself had no special attachment to Boris, no aversion either. He was needed, essential to a friendly relation with the heroes. And an honest chap, humble and meek. Just unlucky. ¡°Then the heroes shall have to learn to make wiser decisions,¡± the king said in afterthought. ¡°No matter,¡± he brushed his hand in a gesture, ¡°it is not like he will survive too long, let them learn it the hard way.¡± And right there was the crux of the issue that teased Welmar. He took a calm breath, relishing the fragrance in the morning air before he asked cautiously, ¡°Is it prudent not to warn them?¡± One reason the inepts were so rare was that most of them died before they could identified as one. The kingdom never heard of them, and they didn¡¯t matter. Cumaria was not for the weak. Welmar had never heard of an inept coming of age. Evidently, Boris would not live more than a year or two at most. He was not sure how the heroes would respond, especially if they knew the truth was kept from them. ¡°Tell them?¡± the king asked sternly, ¡°Never. That would be unwise and uncalled, too risky. Besides, they do say the death of a friend makes one strong. Let him serve his purpose, and let the demons have their hand in it. Vengeance is a great force after all.¡± ¡°As you wish my king,¡± Welmar obeyed. There was nothing he could do, obedience was his discipline. He had his duty to his king first. ¡°Also Welmar?¡± the king turned, ¡°You will be leaving for the northern front, will you not? Are your preparations in order?¡± ¡°They are. I have arranged for High Commander Dunbar to take over here and I have arranged for new mentors. I took the liberty of requesting Bowmaster Diana. She is well suited in my opinion. Grand meister Grey and Arthur shall suffice for the other two¡ªis this not to your liking?¡± Welmar asked seeing the king turn away once more. ¡°It is alright,¡± the king replied with his back to Welmar, ¡°Take Vervan with you, though. He has a good head on his shoulders and must learn these truths.¡± The king looked far into the northern horizon, his eyes ready to invade through it. Welmar hid his surprise. It was the first time the king was ordering his son north, but it was well due. ¡°As you command, Your Majesty,¡± he replied firmly, ¡°Harbor no qualms, I shall defend His Highness Vervan to the last of my breath.¡± ¡°So you will. I trust you,¡± the king replied with a faint smile. ¡°You may take your leave Welmar, I have nothing more to indulge you,¡± he added. ¡°Pardon my leave,¡± Welmar bowed and turned away, walking back the marble steps he had climbed. It would be a long day today. _______________ The week was over and the heroes were barely accorded any time to rest, the concept of weekends was weak in Gaia. The next day they stood in same training hall with Welmar, in the same armor, thinking it would be the same routine all over again. Welmar betrayed them by producing a miscellany of weapons. ¡°You may choose one. I want you to get used to the weapon of your choice before further training.¡± Ray picked up a broadsword and a shield, Sylvia picked up a quarterstaff, and Claire picked up a dagger, for want of a bow. Boris hefted a longsword, or tried to. It rattled in his hand and fell down midway. He bent and picked it up cautiously, using both hands to form a firm grip. The sword denied his hold vehemently, it stirred and his hands shook every time he tried to lift it. It fell down nonetheless. Finally, Boris abandoned the sword and went for the dagger instead. It would be shorter and lighter. The dagger rattled violently, shivered in his shaky arms and denied a firm grip. Boris tried it again and failed. He wrapped a thin cloth to improve the grip, to no avail. Then he went for the chains, the staves, the spears, and every other weapon available. They were all fickle, irritating implements with special hatred for him. He felt the dissonance, a queer sense of incapability as he wrestled with them. He looked to his friends, each of them holding a weapon as if it were natural, before he bent down and continued his stubborn struggle. Sweat bloomed as he toiled with the simple chore, his hands prickly and crude. ¡°I will be done soon,¡± he told Welmar as he gave his friends a reassuring look. Welmar shook his head lightly as he proceeded to teach the heroes. It was only fair to give the boy a chance to realize it. That this was not his place, and that the world itself was not kind to inepts. The sooner he resigned to his fate the better. Welmar held no ill will towards the boy, but no compassion could help him either. ¡°Pay attention here,¡± Welmar lectured the heroes as he corrected their grips and improved their stances. He explained briefly about the weapons each of them had chosen, their benefits and drawbacks. Then he proceeded to the forms. For all his age, Welmar Wesburn was a prodigy of war, a veteran with talents. Every weapon had once been his passion, now it was his forte. He ruminated softly as he instructed each hero in a different form, the basics most suitable for their weapons. He demonstrated those, step by step, emphasizing the crucial, pointing the mistakes. And they sucked it like sponge, growing up each moment. It was fulfilling. Out of the corner his eye, he observed Boris again, still struggling with the weapons. The boy would peek at his demonstrations and try to imitate, but he could barely hold the dagger right. And he would never hold it right. The inepts were clumsy with weapons and implements, incapable of enduring them. The extremely few he had once encountered had even cried when they held a tool, wincing with pain. The scholars never knew why it happened, just that it did. They ascribed it to a curse. Boris sweated profusely, an hour felt like a day. His hands felt increasingly painful, cramps emerged and sweaty palms did not help. ¡®No,¡¯ he denied his doubts, ¡®I can do this. I will do this.¡¯ The thought did not help but poke his endurance. He pushed with it and labored, clenched his hands with every speck of his strength, and hoped to hold the dagger well. He felt his arms cringe and shiver, felt a wave pass through and unnerve him. Pain started to emerge, familiar pain. Boris held on. At the edge of exhaustion, fate resigned to him and he felt the dagger smooth in. The irky sensation began to ease out and he could finally feel the dagger properly. His hand twitched a bit but the dagger did not rattle. He had done it, he had won. Welmar watched in astonishment as the boy finally succeeded, the weapon grasped firmly in his hand and no signs of awkwardness. It was a moment where he seemed capable. Then it shattered. The weapon sparked as it plunged out abruptly and Boris jerked. The dagger flew over his left shoulder, barely avoiding his face. His face crowded in pain as he fell back, the dagger embedded in the pillar behind him. He gasped in astonishment and turned around, searching for the dagger. Welmar sighed, and walked towards Boris who had located the dagger. He stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking his head. Boris gritted, and opposed. Unsuccessfully. The heroes watched in surprise, slightly concerned. ¡°I am sorry but you cannot participate in the training anymore,¡± Welmar told Boris when he was actually pointing those words towards his friends. There was authority in his voice, an inflection that would not accept denial. Boris understood, his eyes tried to defy but his heart relented. It thudded jerkily, reminding him of the state his body was in. He brushed Welmar¡¯s hand apart rudely, gritting away his teeth. ¡°Fair enough,¡± Boris replied begrudgingly, ¡°do as you see fit.¡± He glanced briefly at Ray and turned back. Ray approached him, followed by Sylvia. ¡°Don¡¯t mind it Boris,¡± Ray told him with a difficult face, ¡°It¡¯s not your duty but ours. You just do what you can.¡± There was sincerity in his words and but Boris scowled at them. Sylvia punched Boris on the shoulder lightly and he turned to find her smiling at him. ¡°Why so gloomy?¡± She remarked, ¡°Tell you what, we¡¯ll let you do all the hard work once we get back. I¡¯ll even employ you as my personal lackey just so you can enjoy training all you want.¡± Claire laughed at this. ¡°That would be satisfying,¡± Ray teased, trying to lighten him up, ¡°he could carry all those books for you.¡± ¡°No thanks, I¡¯d drown in the knowledge and die from the weight of it,¡± Boris retorted. A small discussion followed and Boris accepted his dismissal. He stormed off as his friends gave him a weak smile. It frustrated him. Sure, he had once wanted to be left to his own, to be free from responsibilities. Yet this freedom cost dearly. It pricked him. He rambled about around the castle and stumbled across Violet. She was resting peacefully in a garden lawn. A shade of Beruben tree stood over her, pruned like an umbrella. It bore beautiful orange flowers that matched her hair and clusters of leaves around it. The tree was perennial and a few flowers survived the autumn. Boris bent down, ready to flick her nose but found someone else beside her, a child. She was barely six or seven, her dainty limbs were dressed in an elaborate frock and a small circlet-like accessory held her blonde wavy hair over small, pinkish ears. Her face nuzzled against Violet¡¯s purple robe as she breathed softly, sending ruffles across her own hair. They looked like sisters, but the child was probably nobility, seeing how she was dressed. Boris lay down beside her, watching the scene tenderly. Then he flicked Violet¡¯s forehead. Violet shifted slightly, grumbling some nonsense in the process. ¡°Donut tease Violet!¡± The child had her face turned towards Boris. She drove an accusing glare into his eyes. ¡°What, what!¡± he was surprised the child woke up before Violet could. ¡°No, no. You have it wrong, I was just trying to wake her up.¡± ¡°You liar! I know about you, Violet told me evil eyes always making fun of her.¡± ¡°Evil eyes?¡± ¡®Just what is that idiotic mage teaching little children?¡¯ ¡°And dirty hair, you are evil, get away from Violet!¡± Her eyes looked at him as if he was scum. ¡°My hair is brown, not dirty,¡± Boris retorted. Violet woke from the commotion around her. She found Boris going head to head against the child. Boris clutched both of her hands in his and pressed his forehead down against hers bending over. They glared at each other ferociously, none of them giving any ground. ¡°I told you get away, evil eyes,¡± the child pushed Boris back, exerting all her strength. ¡°Hoh, not bad little brat,¡± Boris spat out, reigning her in, ¡°But you can¡¯t win, mwahahaha!¡± He put in more strength, toppling the child over into ground. She burst into silent tears while Boris stood up, victorious over a little child, and laughed like a conqueror. Violet rubbed her twitching temples in annoyance, held up her staff and called forth a brisk shower of water. It washed down on Boris, forcing him to the ground. ¡°Gyaaah!,¡± Boris cried up in surprise, ¡°what the heck are you doing you bratty mage! Now I am all wet!¡± ¡°Oh, let me take care of that,¡± Violet offered as she blew a hot tornado over him, drying him up and almost scorching his face. This routine was getting common. ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± Boris squealed. ¡°That is my line. What do you think you were doing to Her Highness, princess of Cumaria?¡± Violet asked threateningly. Boris turned quizzically, facing the girl who was still on the ground, a few drops of tears still in her eyes, ¡°She is a princess?¡± He pointed at her. Violet nodded and child did too, slightly haughty now that she realized she was in power. Boris dropped his jaw as he stuttered over an apology. ¡°No,¡± the princess puffed her cheeks, refusing his apology, ¡°I will tell on you to Elaine.¡± The color drained from Boris. He shuddered, thinking how Elaine would torture him over this. ¡°Please, anything but that!¡± Boris pleaded, ¡°Don¡¯t tell her. I will do anything you ask. Do you like stories? I can tell great stories.¡± He tried to woo her. ¡°Elaine already tells me great stories.¡± ¡°Then-then what about games, I know great games.¡± ¡°You will play with me?¡± The princess asked. ¡°Of course, anytime!¡± Boris was relieved this was all it took to calm the princess. ¡°Then I want to play the hero game.¡± ¡°Oh, I know that well,¡± Boris responded with some bitterness. He was not wrong. He was just not prepared. ¡°So, what did you need? Did you already finish your training?¡± Violet asked Boris, when she had settled. ¡°Uhm, about that,¡± Boris squandered, his eyes level with Violet¡¯s knees, ¡°it¡¯s kind of difficult to talk in this position.¡± He was on his arms and knees, playing the hero game with the princess. Right now, he was the hero¡¯s horse as the hero, the princess, wandered through wilderness. ¡°Would you rather be executed?¡± ¡°Suddenly I¡¯m feeling great! Ahaha, what is this happiness,¡± Boris cried as he jumped alternately on his arms and knees, imitating a horse. They brushed against the soft grass, the ground barely scraping him. The princess held hard on his collar, tugging it in back. She was bending forward a little, like a horse rider, and she exclaimed heroic shouts every now and then, drowning in her own adventure. ¡°Well, you know,¡± Boris told Violet, ¡°I gave up on training. I couldn¡¯t hold the weapons, they were heavy and uncomfortable. I just knew I couldn¡¯t make any progress with them.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ makes sense. All weapons are forged with some magic, so you¡¯re incompatible with them.¡± ¡°All of them? Why?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t help it. Everything in our world holds mana, especially the weapons and such. The metals, the fire, the forging everything imbues them with magic. It is natural.¡± She explained frankly, telling Boris that weapons were not meant for him. ¡°Then what do I do?¡± Boris asked. ¡°What do you want to do?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I feel uneasy.¡± He confessed his honest feelings. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just this hero stuff is difficult to swallow. I would never have agreed if it were not for Ray.¡± ¡°You know, you can¡¯t just say that to my face,¡± Violet sighed, ¡°Try to learn to be prudent¡­ And then, what ails the man who is not-a-hero? It is not like you have a better option. Food, water, clothing, comfort, everything you are being given and you don¡¯t need to work for it. And by the way, the hero stuff completely genuine, if you belive my words.¡± ¡°There, see, that¡¯s the problem. I am getting everything without any work, life doesn¡¯t work that way. That is inconceivable for me.¡± Violet smirked, ¡°Sure, I can tell Welmar. He will have you haul goods across the castle as payment.¡± ¡°No, no, not that way.¡± Boris despised manual labor, unless it was disguised as training. ¡°So you don¡¯t want to work and you don¡¯t want your life to be easy, what exactly do you want?¡± ¡°I just¡­. want to be helpful.¡± Boris peered into the distance where his friends trained. For a first, his black eyes gleamed with longing, wide awake to the world outside. He looked sincere and attractive with just that, it was surprising how much eyes could change the looks. ¡°And how do you intend to do that?¡± Violet asked, catching the look in his eyes with her own interest. ¡°You tell me. I can¡¯t use weapons, I can¡¯t use magic, tell me something I can use.¡± ¡°The way I see it, that leaves just one thing that you can use, the weapon of ages.¡± She tapped her fingers while crossing her arms across her chest. ¡°What is that?¡± Boris asked, excited about a secret weapon he could actually use. ¡°Knowledge,¡± Violet told him as a matter-of-fact. ¡°Ugh,¡± Boris caught his head at the banal answer he received. In doing so, he forgot his posture and soon planted his face into the ground, groaning as he held his nose afterwards. The princess nimbly jumped down, paying no heed to the fallen steed. ¡°So you haff come demon lord!¡± she shouted, stumbling over her words in excitement. For the next hour Boris had to play both the tyrannical demon lord and the rescued princess, until the real princess was finally content. An attendant arrived to take her back. ¡°I like you evil eyes, play hero with me next time,¡± she ordered him. ¡°My name is Boris,¡± he told her in annoyance. ¡°And my name is hero Maina, remember it well!¡± she pushed her chest out and smiled vibrantly, introducing herself like a hero, one hand on her chest and the other at her waist. Boris could not help but smile at her demeanor, ¡°I will remember it, Maina.¡± She puffed her cheeks up once more, blushing a little, ¡°I- I will see you tomorrow Violet,¡± then as her voice faded she added, ¡°and Boris.¡± The attendant took her leave, accompanying the princess back. Boris waved at her as she left. ¡°The king will roast you alive if he sees you eyeing his daughter,¡± Violet commented from the side. ¡°Who¡¯s eyeing whom here? Don¡¯t cause misunderstandings!¡± ¡°Hmm? Aren¡¯t you?¡± she asked innocuously. ¡°I am not! And get back to the real topic, you were talking about knowledge a while ago.¡± ¡°Alright, alright, let me accompany you to the library and then we¡¯ll talk.¡± She walked off with slightly puffed cheeks and heavy steps. Boris followed her. ¡°You seem more irritated than usual?¡± he asked eventually. ¡°It is nothing and it has got nothing to do with the fact that you made friends with the princess in one day, while it took me a whole month.¡± ¡°Oh, are you perhaps jealous? I have always been great with kids,¡± Boris boasted confidently. ¡°You fought a kid to tears just a while ago,¡± Violet reminded him as they entered the library. The royal library was a gigantic dome with no ends. The rows sprawled away in neat half-lit corridors stacked with thousands of books. A small swirling flame hung at regular intervals, bathing the books in creepy yellow. The visitors each held their own light, a bright sphere of pure white contained over cracked eggshells in a lantern. It was a dim, dreary maze with stacked books and silent spectators. Nobody even turned to offer him a glance. ¡°This is amazing!¡± Boris remarked as he tried to take in the enormity of the structure before him. His eyes sparkled in wonder as he shuffled through the rows, glancing at the crowded spines of mysterious books. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Of course it is,¡± Violet replied with visible pride, ¡°my ancestors had this built at their behest. It is the largest collection books the kingdom has, larger even than the Sorlock¡¯s Academy Library. Only the Elven Codex rivals the sheer content of knowledge stored here.¡± ¡°I never thought your world would pay so much attention to books.¡± He loved the place, enough to pester Violet to get him a reading room. Violet happily complied and asked the librarian to indulge him. She helped pick a few books he was interested in and he proceeded to try them. He was of course, unsuccessful. The script made no sense. ¡°This is all gibberish,¡± he pointed at the book before him, illegible characters printed across the pages. ¡°T-That is obvious, you were summoned so you could understand Humarian, but forcing the entire knowledge of literature and script is beyond the skill of an archimage.¡± Violet explained awkwardly, she herself had just recognized this shortcoming. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°What I mean is the summoning applied language comprehension magic on all of you, so we can understand each other. But our languages are obviously different, so you cannot read it.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ So, are there other languages as well?¡± ¡°There are many, the one we speak is Humarian. Elves speak Cylian, the western regions speak Suren, pixars have Werb and some parts in south speak Adiva. Though you will have a basic comprehension of most of them thanks to the summoning, don¡¯t expect to understand them all thoroughly.¡± Boris beamed at this. Finally, he had something only he could do, with enough time on his hands and his interest in different languages he could learn them all. A whole different world of knowledge. ¡°Then, can you appoint a teacher who can teach me those?¡± he asked Violet. ¡°Not possible,¡± Violet turned him down, ¡°The summoning makes it so you can understand the words without knowing their native pronunciation. What I speak, is different from what you hear. How can I teach you a language when you can¡¯t even hear what I am actually speaking?¡± ¡°Then how am I supposed to read them?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get you an attendant, they are good at languages.¡± Boris accepted the option reluctantly, upset that he could not read the books himself. He thanked Violet as she left him with an attendant, a thin brusque man with long hair. He would read the books aloud for Boris. And slowly, everything turned different. The books came alive. Everything turned into graphic detail. They lead him through the kingdom in a vicarious journey and talked fervently, describing the details he relished. The world changed as Boris scoured through them, listening intently to each word iterated. He pestered the attendant about every little doubt. Forests bloomed before him, trees erupted and nascent monsters formed. He assimilated them as his own, creating a map of Cumaria through the author¡¯s eyes. Time turned back as he read about travels and wars, clocked them into his memory and craved for more. It was a whole seven books later that he stopped, allowing the attendant a much-needed relief. A pile of books lay on the table to his right. The travels of Dinborn Coy, Monsters in brief, Through the Sumarian War, The price of magic, The seven terrors of Sik, Races and rights, Over the front: the demons of Gelacien. Boris felt a lot calmer than the morning, satisfied and happy. He delved into his mind as time stood still, piecing the words into images once more. It was cathartic. Time flowed again when he received a call, bringing him out of his reverie. Someone was waiting for him. He exited the library, having thanked the attendant and pondered who that someone was. Elaine sat on a bench outside the library, in one of the many gardens across the castle. He noticed her immediately, she captivated attention. The shade of trees cast her in a solemn air, and the evening sunlight that filtered through reflected her radiance. Her black hair glittered with flowing silver strands and her delicate eyelids drooped with modesty. People avoided her like a divine being and Boris was extremely inclined to do the same. Except he knew the consequences would be dire. So he approached her. Elaine noticed him and smiled the disarming smile she had when Boris first saw her. His heart leapt wildly for moment and he would have been infatuated if he hadn¡¯t seen her scary side. As soon as Boris sat across her, Elaine¡¯s smile turned a tad darker. From a distance, she would have seemed the same elegant lady as before, but Boris was already breaking in cold sweat. ¡°M-miss Elaine, did you perhaps need me for something?¡± ¡°Why yes Boris. You see, I was teaching your friends today when I noticed something missing.¡± ¡°Something?¡± Boris realized only now that he had missed all classes, including lunch. ¡°Yes, I was fairly baffled too. I wondered what it was when I noticed that the room suddenly seemed calm and disciplined. The sense of irritation, the slight rowdiness, the ridiculous questions, they were all absent. Everything felt much better.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that great then?¡± He had thought she would be angry if he missed her lessons but she was happy. If he had known this earlier, he would have avoided her lessons completely. ¡°It was great, I felt refreshed. Until I noticed the alarming absence of somebody who was supposed to be there, somebody whom I had repeatedly warned about matters of discipline and attentiveness.¡± He had thought right, she was angry. Boris prepared himself for her wrath but Elaine continued, ¡°Your friends had no idea about him, so I asked Violet. I was worried,¡± Boris was surprised at receiving concern instead of punishment. Elaine added, ¡°But Violet told me something very interesting.¡± And suddenly Boris could almost see the death that leaked from her pure smile, he sat rooted in terror. ¡°She told me that somebody had the impudence to make the princess cry, and then hide in the library afterwards.¡± The icy words pierced through his shock. Boris smiled weakly as he prepared to run with all his might. Regrettably, his foot caught and he lost his balance before he could sprint. Just when he was about to meet the ground he was held back. Slender fingers held his ear taut, preventing his fall. Pain seared through him. ¡°Ouch! Ouch-ouch- ouch-ouch-ouch-ouch stop-stop-stop-stop please stop!¡± At his pleading, his ear was released and he hit the ground hard, hurting his forehead. ¡°Are you alright Boris?! I¡¯m so sorry, I was only trying to catch your fall.¡± Elaine held a hand over her face in mock worry as she looked down on him. From where he lay, she looked far more evil than anything he had seen. Her eyes were watering, but he concluded it was from mirth and not grief. ¡®A devil,¡¯ Boris reaffirmed. Boris got up, brushed the dirt off his clothes and sat down. What followed was the most elaborate and heartfelt apology he had ever given in his life. People can go to great lengths to ensure their survival, and Boris went an extra mile to do so. He kowtowed. His effort bore fruit when Elaine admonished him lightly, warning him to take matters seriously. They talked for a while and Boris explained he was interested in books and planned to spend his time in the library. Elaine was delighted and promised help with the books if he needed it. The sun was hanging low on the horizon when they made their way back. Because he had nothing else to do, Boris simply went to the dining hall. Elaine left for her own room, midway through. There were three new occupants at the table. An old man in wizardly robes sat next to Violet. A pointed hat covered his grey hair and a stately beard overhung his chest. His clothes had the patterns of moon in different phases, which gleamed mysteriously. The azure eyes behind his bespectacled face seemed familiar, and the creases around them spoke of wisdom that only came with age. This was mage, if there ever was. Boris looked between Violet and the old man, contrasting them. Violet looked like a child dressed up as a witch in comparison. Violet snorted at his scrutiny, inferring his feelings from his expression. ¡°I know what you are thinking,¡± she croaked, ¡°so stop that rude thought!¡± Her azure eyes gleamed with fury. And Boris suddenly realized why the eyes had seemed so familiar. ¡°You are his¡­ granddaughter?¡± he asked, incredulous. ¡°Hoh, an astute observation,¡± the old man spoke up, ¡°you are interesting, young man.¡± ¡°But you have no manners.¡± The one who spoke was a woman, tall and slender in appearance. She was dressed in a light green tunic that tightened over shoulders and elbows, her collarbones visible above the stretched V-neck. She wore loose, pleated trousers that gripped at her ankles. The plain clothing contrasted with her sharp appearance. Her brows held no tension, her face no wrinkle, her lips no emotion. But her green eyes reserved a piercing glance, like a hawk. ¡®This woman is dangerous,¡¯ intuition screamed at Boris. ¡°I am sorry for being rude,¡± Boris apologized, ¡°I am Boris Debron, one of the individuals summoned from the other world.¡± He summarized briefly. ¡°I am Diana,¡± the woman nodded and Boris took a seat, aiding the silence. The third occupant was the knight he had seen in the conference room on the first day. Servants arrived in due time, arranging plates and cutlery on the table. Elaine arrived shortly thereafter, she was surprised to see new faces but she quietly took her seat across from Boris. Then Welmar came leading the heroes. Ray occupied his usual seat between Claire and Sylvia, and Welmar sat across him. They noticed the new occupants and turned to Welmar in question. ¡°Ahm,¡± Welmar coughed, ¡°I am proud to say that you have all performed admirably over the last week. In order to help you realize your true potential, we have appointed mentors for each hero. They have already been briefed about your situation, so you don¡¯t need to worry. You will formally begin your training tomorrow.¡± He nodded at the old man, who proceeded to introduce himself. ¡°I am Grey Feyl Farlore, grandfather of the cute Violet that you have met,¡± he patted Violet on the back of her head and she blushed, trying to push his hand away. ¡°I will be taking Sylvia as my disciple. Oh, I would also love to talk to Boris sometime. Violet tells me you have a decent grasp on magic, which I find fascinating given your¡­ condition.¡± He laughed with an ¡®oh ho ho¡¯ at the end, sounding like Santa Claus. ¡°You have already met me,¡± said the knight next, ¡°I am Knight Guardian Arthur Syburd, under orders from His Majesty the king to train Ray Edson in knighthood and combat.¡± His words were terse and his tone formal. Ray nodded back in acceptance. Their eyes then turned to the last addition. The dangerous looking woman finally introduced herself formally. ¡°Nice to meet you all,¡± she smiled charmingly, ¡°I am Diana Silverdeen, a Bowmaster and Scout trainer. I will be looking after Claire, I hope we get along.¡± Her features looked sharper than before, perhaps because the angle of light had changed; the chandeliers now glowed bright. Her sharp emerald eyes now radiated congeniality. Her slender nose sat upon thin, firm lips and high cheekbones. She had ears that hid under a cap and a hair of golden brown. ¡®An Elf?¡¯ Boris tried to peek at her ears. ¡°I am an Elf,¡± Diana added as she caught Boris, ¡°and pure blooded.¡± She elegantly removed her cap, exposing her pointed ears and letting her hair flow down. It glowed golden in the illumination, complementing her fair skin. The sight was captivating, like a surreal painting. Ray gasped, admiring her beauty until he was pinched by Claire and his ear caught by Sylvia. They glared at him sharply, making their intentions clear. ¡°I am sorry,¡± Ray apologized as he reddened, but Diana brushed her hand aside in the air, gesturing that she did not mind. Well, Claire and Sylvia sure did, and they were ready to burn daggers into him. Somehow, Diana¡¯s words caught Boris more than her appearance. Not just their immediacy, but also their intent. They were a frank admittance of her race, but he felt an innuendo. The Elves held great pride in their blood. That did not mean they flaunted it rather it was implicit. ¡®Pure-blooded¡¯ the word seeped through his mind, causing Boris to ponder. The chatter around him seemed to drown and only the word stuck. The servants came in with dishes. The aroma pulled Boris back to the world around him, his mouth watering at the tantalizing feast before him. Every once in a while, a different world was good. There was no school, and a feast waited every night. It was worth it even if he could not learn magic. He would content himself with exploring the wonders of the new world, in due time. Before that, he needed his weapon of ages; he needed knowledge. Curiosity was sprouting inside him. Why were the Elves so proud of their blood? Why did Diana specify she was a pure blood? There, the frivolous question had made its way back. ¡°Boris? Something on your mind?¡± Sylvia asked, seeing Boris neglecting his meal. ¡°?¡± Boris was reeled back to focus and his eyes caught the girl who sat before him, the maiden of light, eating her meal with elegant gestures. ¡°Elaine.¡± He said in a deep voice everyone could hear, things made sense. Unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t heard the question Sylvia had posed to him. Claire spit out a mouthful of water and Ray choked as Sylvia gaped at Boris. Welmar watched in amusement, Violet laughed hysterically, and old man Grey nodded gravely. There was a bedlam of hushed voices. Only Elaine wore a slightly anxious expression, her brows raised while her cheeks blushed. The Knight Guardian Arthur glared at him disapprovingly. ¡°What? Did I say something?¡± Boris asked. ¡°You just said ¡®Elaine¡¯.¡± Claire told him. ¡°I did huh?¡± Boris asked absent mindedly, as he looked between Claire and Elaine, unable to understand what had transpired. ¡°Never mind that, I understand,¡± Claire told him. ¡°Huh?¡± Boris enquired skeptically as people around him nodded meaningfully. ¡°Alright, stop that.¡± Sylvia punched him on the head as she turned to face Elaine, ¡°I am sorry. He does that, occasionally.¡± People laughed as Boris made a funny face contrasting his earlier seriousness. The topic was lost in small talk and jokes. The dinner continued without any tension. Diana did not laugh however, just watched in silence. The boy was sharper than he looked. The small talk continued and soon turned to gibberish. Boris felt tired and sleepy, unable to make sense of the conversations around him. Dizziness churned his head and drowsiness his eyes. ¡®I need rest,¡¯ he decided as he got up and left, ignoring the voices behind him. That night Boris dreamt a new dream. He stood before a huge monster, menacing and ravenous. Yet he did not bat an eyelid at the shrill piercing roar, he did not even look up at the monster. He just bent down and continued to draw a circle, a magical glyph, one only he could draw. Sylvia restrained the monster, Claire distracted it, and Ray attacked, dealing little damage. The monster thrashed about, repelling all attacks and straining the restraints. But they held on. He completed the glyph soon and Sylvia activated it, pouring mana. The glyph burst to life, spawning restraints that enveloped the monster, eating through its magic, and crushing it. Boris smiled in his dream, in satisfaction, in jubilation, in victory¡­ ________ The next morning was brisk. Boris woke up earlier than the sun and had his customary run around the castle, taking in the air. The routine had set in during training and Boris continued to do so just to keep fit. He returned in time for breakfast to find his friends missing. Only Elaine and Violet occupied the table, eating a hearty breakfast. ¡°Good morning,¡± he wished them as he sat down. They were pleasantly surprised to see him up early for once. ¡°Did they leave early?¡± He asked, referring to his friends. ¡°Sui?¡± Violet talked, still surprised. ¡°Well, it seems their new mentors are rougher,¡± he concluded as he gulped down milk. The taste was oddly satisfying after his stroll. ¡°Qu ma sin dourun, ven Boris?¡± Elaine asked in astonishment. She did not seem to be pleasantly surprised like he had imagined. ¡°You are talking weird? What is this, a new prank?¡± He was beginning feel a bit anxious. ¡°Semora?¡± Elaine asked again. She did not seem to be joking around, neither from the tone of her voice, nor from her expression. ¡°Can- you- understand- me?¡± He asked, gesticulating to convey the sense of his words. They shook their heads. His heart sunk. It was an ominous premonition. He knew what was wrong, but he was having difficulty accepting it. ¡°Lei ma temusin?¡± Violet asked him. She looked pretty worried, probably beginning to understand what was happening. Boris shook his head. Violet clutched hers. ¡°So now I cannot even talk to you, huh? Well sucks, here I was beginning to understand some books, trying to be creative.¡± Boris remembered his dream last night. It seemed much farther now. ¡®Looks like the language comprehension magic wore off. Inept, huh¡­¡¯ He cursed at his condition. He had no physical prowess and no magical capability. Now he couldn¡¯t talk, not in any comprehensible language. ¡®What knowledge? What weapon of ages? I am an illiterate now.¡¯ He clutched at his heart, and gulped down his thoughts. A lump formed in his throat. His eyes felt warm, moist. Thoughts brainstormed through his head, What do you want to do? I just want to be helpful. ..that leaves just one thing that you can use, the weapon of ages. ..What I speak, is different from what you hear. How can I teach you a language when you can¡¯t even hear what I am actually speaking?¡± And ironically, he could see a silver lining. The magic had worn off and he could now hear the actual words. He could learn the language, he had enough time on his hands. Both Elaine and Violet had a good idea of what was going on by now. They were probably debating on what to do, seeing as they talked back and forth, glancing at him occasionally. He made his resolve and turned to face Violet. ¡°Teach me.¡± He said, trying to explain with gestures. Violet raised an eyebrow in confusion and shook both her hands before her, probably saying that she couldn¡¯t understand. ¡°Teach me how to speak like you,¡± he tried to gesture to her mouth, then himself then his head, then his own mouth. Violet shook her head not understanding and Boris almost felt like shouting, telling her she was an idiot. It would still be useless. Elaine had a better idea. She called for a servant and had him bring parchment and penbrushes, Boris had seen them in the library. Conversing was a lot easier when you could draw. It took an hour to get the situation under control. The first thing Boris did was to sit down and finish breakfast. He was going to need energy. He spent time explaining and understanding the situation from Violet. His drawings were decent but hers were terrible, she was at the level of kindergarten. Elaine just watched from the side, amused at the scribble book that was unfolding before her. The language comprehension magic had indeed vanished; Violet guessed it was because he had no mana to support the magic and it faded away. Without the magic, he would not be able to converse with people, except his friends. Violet offered to redo the magic, though it would take some time and effort. Boris declined, asking her to teach him the language from the basics, letter by letter. Violet insisted on the magic, casting it would only take weeks. Learning the language could take months, or more. Boris reasoned that magic was temporary and would wane out again, learning the language would be permanent. Violet assured that she would be prepared in the advance next time, ready to cast comprehension magic at a day¡¯s notice. Boris assured that he would rather trust his skill than some stupid magic skill, which would be no help in emergencies. Violet countered that she could whoop his ass with stupid magic skills, and that there would be emergencies where nobody knew Humarian, rendering his knowledge useless but comprehension magic would still be somewhat useful. The parchment soon turned into graphic display of slanders and abuses, as Boris and Violet portrayed each other disgracefully, literally. They then started scratching at each other¡¯s drawings, fighting a war on paper. A moment later, they were screaming in pain from having their ears pulled by Elaine, who sat in between. She smiled very politely to convey that they would have to calm down, or regret it. They promptly calmed down. The situation was finally under control. Fortunately for Boris, Elaine agreed with his opinion. She indicated this by a very beautiful drawing, which depicted her like an angel, shining her light upon a kneeling Boris. She had great talent at drawing, Boris mused. She also appointed an attendant to teach him languages. He could use the library for the books required. Thus, Boris began anew. __________
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Thank you for reading this far. Please do leave your criticisms below. All comments are welcome. [th_0tasma.gif] I will also be making a separate thread for it, sometime. Then, until next chap... [th_107_.gif] Suggestions and critiques. This is here to let you know that I care about suggestions and criticisms, and would love to have some. It shows my wide and accepting heart towards readers and will occasionally(/often) show me rant out back. Be careful. [th_102_.gif] Also tell me your expectations, it is difficult to betray them otherwise. And I would love it if you can all pass your suggestions here, just so they are collected in one place and I don''t have to search everywhere to steal them. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.*sinister laugh* :keuhkeuh: Just kidding, please give me your honest opinions/comments/ideas/etc here. It will help me improve my writing. English is not my native tongue so I would love to have mistakes pointed out. :hotinhere: 4. Stepping up Chapters here on will be edited in due time (slowly..) 4. Stepping up Ray Edson was facing a crisis of unprecedented levels. It was a first for him. He was stuck and his usual measure proved no help. All his life he had made through by just moving forward. He had determination, he had a strong will and he produced results. Invariably. Consistently. Efficiently. He just had one thing on his mind, to move forward. And he was spectacular at that. He had good scores in academics and a fine performance at sports. He was good at everything and it was not because he was a prodigy, it was because of his diligence. Irrespective of the circumstances, he chose to move forward. With every fiber of his being, every moment of his thought. Yes, he was a very forward-minded person. He felt elated when his new mentor had assigned the present task. To move forward. It was the very essence of his life. Yet, he was stuck. In fact, he was being dragged back. He willed the entirety of his determination, with every fiber of his being, to move forward. But it failed. It had never done so. This was an existential crisis. If he could just move forward, everything would be straightforward. Turning back meant complicating things. Ray was in deep thought. He looked down. There were bracelets on his wrist and anklets on his ankle. Then there were elbow guards, spaulders, chest plate, knee guards. All thin plates of metal. Enchanted to increase weight. He was about twice his weight now, but his physique remarkably endured. Next was the tougher part. He was waist deep in water, downstream of a brook that flowed down the hill. The flow was smooth yet brisk, and the ground was firm but sloping. He had been ordered to climb upstream until he could reach the top. ¡°You are doing this wrong,¡± Arthur said. The knight was observing as Ray struggled upstream, taking a step forward and being pushed two steps back. It was funny but Arthur had lost most of his sense of humor during his own training. Instead, he chose to lecture his pupil, ¡°You are going against your weight, letting it drag you back. You cannot win against your weight. Do not fight it, use it. Do not drag it, rely on it. It is not a burden, it is your weight.¡± Those were some difficult words. They might have carried some deep universal truth but Ray found them to be obscure. ¡°Can you please put it in simple words, master?¡± He had taken to calling Arthur as master, in an appropriate display of respect that Arthur approved. ¡°I am telling you to stop stubbornly pushing forward. Your center of balance is too low, it will prevent your fall but you will never move forward that way. Lean upon your weight, let it pull you forward while you focus on balance.¡± Ray nodded his head, those words made more sense. It was the first time he had been told that he didn¡¯t need to push forward, something would pull him. He only needed to maintain balance. Now he just had to figure out how to make his weight pull him. Regardless of push or pull, he would eventually move forward. The existential crisis was resolved. Ray took a deep breath of relief as he observed the surrounding forest. It was green and filled with trees and grass. Pretty much normal. The soil was friable with a reddish tinge. A layer of humus spread about unevenly. The terrain turned rocky as it ascended. The forest was peaceful in these parts, with fewer animals and monsters. There were mostly rabbits and squirrels, but also monkeys and wild buffaloes. Lizards and insects roamed freely. This part of the forest was closer to the castle, starting about fifty kilometers off south. The distance was by no means something to scoff at, not unless you rode a Fulgur. They did. The Fulgurs were supposed to be horses, half-bred with some primitive monsters long time ago. They looked mostly like horses and ran mostly like monsters. The entire distance was a leisurely two hours stretch for them. Ray would have fainted if not for the timely breaks and the enchanted saddles. Ray whisked away the dreadful memory and turned his attention back to the surroundings. The vegetation was more pastoral and thickets were spaced, probably because of logging and human activities. It was a good spot for training, open and peaceful. The others were here too. Claire sat further south in the forest, meditating. Upon a smooth, grassy depression overshadowed by trees and hidden by rocks. A small lake resided nearby, providing bathing space for animals. Some lizards crept around her, wading through the leaves in search of prey. Claire did not mind, as long as there weren¡¯t any snakes. Claire did mind because she did not want to sit like a statue, eyes shut and breath calm. She didn¡¯t want yoga classes. She wanted to go out there and fight, hunt and slay monsters, use magic, live adventures. After the humiliation this morning however, she had no right to object. Hunt five slimes, they had been told. Claire was enthusiastic over finally getting a chance. Slimes were low-level monsters and after a week of training, they could easily hunt a few. Wrong. Slimes were disgusting and resilient, like cockroaches. They scouted to find a group of slimes hovering over a carcass. The dead body was deformed beyond recognition, flesh turned black, skin inexistent. Slimes surrounded it, their nasty pseudopods smothering and sucking out of it. Their bodies were turbid green, fluctuating with light into amorphous colloidal masses with rotten residues. The stink was mild, but the sight itself felt nauseous. Sylvia almost retched. Ray drew his sword and swept in, intending to slash the monsters in half. The motion caught one of the slimes and the sword dug, like knife in jelly, piercing the blob. The slash did not part it however, as the slime reformed the defect while the sword was impeded by its mass. Ray pulled out the sword with little difficulty and repeated the attack, to no effect. The other slimes were alarmed and began a slow retreat. Claire darted soon after, her kick assaulting the one farthest. It deformed the slime and then plunged in. It felt like wading through a blob of cheese, a repulsive, green, gooey one. She frowned in disgust as the slime reformed, retracting her foot. Physical trauma could not kill them. Sylvia had reached the same conclusion and she ignited a fireball that shot into a slime. There was a subdued screech, like a lament, as the fire assaulted the slime. The slime reacted fast, expelling the charred segment that fell down on the grass, dissolving in noxious fumes and viscid fluids. Fire had an effect. ¡°Burn the whole of its body,¡± Claire suggested. But Sylvia shook her head, ¡°This is a forest, if I create a large flame we might have a forest fire on our hands. I don¡¯t think I can just extinguish my magic if the grass catches flames.¡± Meanwhile Ray dug through the slimes again, trying to stab its heart, if it had one. The slime¡¯s body impeded the sword and piercing strikes turned to slow thrusts. Slicing away at their pseudopods didn¡¯t work either. They would either reclaim the lost part, or it would melt away without harm. If he continued this, he would have to scrap them bit by bit until they were small. He pummeled another slime with force and parts of it splattered on impact. ¡°Eeek!¡± Sylvia shrieked as some of the splattered goo landed on her. ¡°Ray, stop that.¡± Claire brushed away the gooey fluid off her shoulders as it melted. Ray scuttled back and joined them. ¡°What do we do?¡± he asked, not sure how they were supposed to hunt slimes. ¡°There has got to be a core somewhere, something that controls the body,¡± Sylvia remarked. ¡°I stabbed their body many times, hoping to hit the heart, but it doesn¡¯t work,¡± Ray added. The slimes were now gathering in the distance, preparing to escape. They were surprisingly passive for monsters. ¡°Why don¡¯t you use other forms of magic,¡± Claire asked as she darted off to hit the slimes back, cutting their retreat. ¡°I tried wind, it doesn¡¯t work. I don¡¯t know earth magic well enough to crush or confine them. Lightning will work just like fire, carrying the same risks. And water, well it would be stupid to use water.¡± ¡°Then think up something, find the core or whatever, you¡¯re the smartest after all,¡± Claire told Sylvia. Sylvia deliberated for a long time while Claire and Ray circled the slimes, refusing to lose the catch they had but could not kill. Sylvia hit them with every elemental magic she knew, fire, earth, water, wind, lightning, yin. They would cause a small damage and a part would fall off, melting and evaporating. Water jets did no damage at all. She tried to restrain the slimes using shackles of yin but they spilled over it. She observed as all efforts just scraped off parts of slime, unable to kill them. At this rate, it would be evening before they could actually kill even one with sheer force. She debated using a large scale fire, she was capable but her control was not good. She watched again as Ray split another pseudopodia that melted. Then it clicked; they melted, they were semi-solid. The states of matter. She fired up her mana and thought up a strong image, an image of ice, chilled, frozen, solid. She shot it at the nearest slime and it froze all over, engulfed in ice. The other slimes jerked at the sight, visibly afraid. The frozen slime stood rooted for a moment, and then she saw them, extruding from the base, with a small part of the body. The cores, the one thing the slime had tried to save after being frozen. They had been before her eyes the entire time, how stupid! They had been eyes! ¡°The eyes!¡± Sylvia shouted, ¡°The eyes are the cores!¡± That broke the deadlock, suddenly the slimes turned aggressive, sensing the threat. They tried to smack their pseudopods at Ray, trying to secure escape while fighting. But Ray was fast, and he knew what to do. He skipped and his sword found its way into an eye, the small black orb shattered on impact. He turned slightly, drawing the sword back and using the force to stab the second eye. The slime shivered, then doubled over like a limp body, finally melting away. A lightning bolt tore through the air, striking the eye of another slime. Then a fireball scorched the second. Sylvia aimed at slimes in succession. She stood at close range so the shots didn¡¯t miss. Claire pulled out her daggers and dove in with speed, stabbing and slashing at pairs of eyes. Killing a second slime before the first could melt. In minutes, there stood a viscid swamp of slime remains, bubbling over and seeping out. There was no blood but the ground was stained dark. They stood beside the scene, glistening with sweat and grime. What seemed like a lofty achievement was actually more of ridiculous effort. They had taken hours just to get rid of petty slimes, the lowest of monsters. Realization dawned upon them as they made their way back. ¡°So? How do you feel?¡± Diana had asked them when they returned to the lake. A spare set of clothes and some self-reflection awaited them. ¡°Ugh, that was humiliating,¡± Claire replied dejectedly. Diana nodded at that, satisfied. ¡°You are not weak,¡± she said sternly, ¡°but yes, you are unprepared. And it is my job to change that, so don¡¯t worry.¡± Claire perked up at those words, ¡°I will do that.¡± Her friends had also received their respective lecturing and recovered some self-esteem. This was a lesson. It taught them where they stood. Even at their worst they could always kill slimes. At their best¡­ well, that¡¯s where they needed to be. ¡°Alright then, let¡¯s begin your training.¡± Diana said. And here she was. After so much excitement over Diana¡¯s words. Sitting like a stoic monk meditating under a tree, ready for birds to perch on her shoulders. Diana smacked her head lightly with a stray branch. ¡°Focus,¡± she said. ¡°I am trying,¡± Claire rubbed the spot with her hands and went back to meditation, ¡°Empty your mind, empty your heart,¡± she stressed her temples. Another smack hit her head. ¡°What now?¡± she cried irritatingly. ¡°What is that you are chanting, empty mind, empty heart?¡± ¡°It is a secret mantra for focus in my world.¡± ¡°Useless.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Claire looked with pitying surprise at the woman who had just decried a thousand years of wisdom. ¡°What I want you to do Claire is to listen, I want you to hear, to understand, to experience. To feel the world around you. You can never understand it with an empty mind, and never feel it with an empty heart. I am not training an ascetic, I am training a hero.¡± Oh, that made sense. It was insulting to age old wisdom, but it looked acceptable. Unconventional, or may be the conventions were different in this world. So Claire did as told, closed her eyes and instead of emptying her mind filled it with the ruckus around her. A veritable bedlam of noises gushed in. Gibberish and nonsense. Claire frowned. ¡°Then make a sense of it,¡± Diana replied to her mental question. Claire acquiesced, trying to dissect the noises into voices. It didn¡¯t work so well but as she kept listening, the noises stratified. Some were repetitive, some incidental. Some were rhythmic, some sporadic. She felt the differences, the similarities. She felt them like never before. Ever since coming to this world, she had been surprised at how fast her body adapted. She felt like a genius. The incident with slimes this morning had questioned that perception but now it was back. She knew she was gifted, she just had to put it into practice. Another smack. ¡°Do not digress.¡± Claire focused. The noises settled down. Then rose up, slowly this time. She could hear them, separate, distinct. They were like threads in weaves, pick one carefully and it stood out, pick many and they entangled. She listened until she was wrapped and woven, sitting in cocoon of sounds. She picked a thread and traced it, feeling its distance. She could feel its undulations. ¡°Good. Now let your mana flow,¡± Diana advised. Claire obeyed, she built up her reserve of mana and pumped it. The cocoon accepted it, feeding upon it. Within minutes, the world was different, transparent. She could see through her body, almost. She sat in a dome few meters wide. Every movement, every rustle, every flicker was hers to know. If she could interpret it, she could count the number of leaves around her, know where the lizard was crawling, where the worms were hiding, who was swinging¡ª Whoa! That was close. Claire dodged the branch that sliced down through the air, aiming at her head from behind. It was fast and threatening. ¡°What are you doing?¡± She glared back at Diana, opening her eyes and turning her head. ¡°And that¡¯s how you do it¡±, Diana told her while musing, ¡®Impressive, so this is a hero¡¯s potential.¡¯ ¡°Alright, now repeat the process but open your eyes, observe while you hear. Understand. Then close them again and try to expand the area of effect.¡± Claire nodded, returning to her exercise. She analyzed what she heard, remembered it, revised it, and extended it. Soon the ambient landscape washed over her. She could feel the tree, the grass, the air and every bit of wilderness hidden within. It was taxing but calming, it was exciting but serene. It was paradoxical. Claire dreamt up her dreamland here. On the hollow trunk of a fallen tree she sat, dressed in beautiful clothes, and butterflies fluttered across and squirrels danced. The breeze was soft, the flowers aplenty. Beside her sat Ray¡ª Another smack. Diana smacked Claire, seeing the smitten expression and the clueless smile. ¡°This is no time for daydreams young lady. If you want to meet the boy, work faster and I will let you have a break. A private one,¡± Diana smiled cunningly. Claire blushed. ¡­.. The sunlight spun through the window glass, illuminating the book. The windows were closed to prevent the draft from storming the pages. The glass was textured to prevent the scene outside from distracting the occupant, or maybe to ensure privacy. Parchment and penbrush lay in the center, with an inkpot at the corner. Boris was surprised. Maybe it was the window, or maybe the sunlight, or maybe the book itself was magical. If not, he would have to concede that the humans of this world were silly, their language so simple, their scripts so elementary, and their nuances so basic. The learning curve sure was flat for Humarian and he was climbing fast or rather striding across it. Boris held up a sheet he had scribbled on in the light, letting the attendant get a closer look. ¡°Is this correct?¡± he asked in crude Humarian. It was too much to master the language in half a day, but his progress was considerable. The attendant took the parchment and held it to close scrutiny, his eyes scanning the words and sentences. He shifted forward on his seat, bending to grasp a penbrush//. He stroked under the mistakes, writing the corrections over them. ¡°There, much better,¡± he told Boris as he proceeded to explain the mistakes verbally, correcting grammar and intonations. He was surprised at how fast Boris was grasping the language but then, given that he was a companion of the heroes, it was not all too surprising. The summoned heroes had always been like that. Tales spoke of their uncanny capabilities and incredulous deeds. Learning a language was a small feat, even if considerable. There was a knock on the door but Boris was too submerged in reviewing his mistakes to take notice. Then there was another knock. ¡°Maybe I should take that?¡± the attendant asked Boris. Boris nodded absentmindedly, still lost in contemplation. The attendant received the call and returned to inform him, ¡°The princess is calling for you Boris.¡± ¡°Princess?¡± ¡°Her Highness, the second princess Maina.¡± ¡®Oh, her. Come to think of it she said something like that yesterday.¡¯ Boris recounted. But in his state he would rather learn up some more. ¡°Make excuse, I need to stay,¡± he told the attendant. ¡°That would be unwise,¡± the attendant told him plaintively. The poor chap had probably faced some flack in the past because of the princess. Boris clucked his tongue, reluctantly getting up. ¡°I will be back soon,¡± he told the attendant while taking time to stack up the papers in order and clean the table. The attendant could take care of that, but Boris preferred not relying on servants for everything. The door was now being banged quite fervently as Boris held his head in slight frustration, obviously the princess didn¡¯t know of patience. When he had finally cleared the table, he left for the door. ¡°You made me wait!¡± the princess shouted right as he opened the door, her snappy tone obviously the result of her banging on the door and getting a late reply. A servant stood beside her, apologetic in his posture. He was probably the one who had knocked before. ¡°Why are you so late? I want to play hero,¡± it was all questions and demands. She crossed her hands over chest authoritatively, expecting him to answer. Violet stood beside her, shrugging her shoulders at him. She looked to have failed at dissuading the princess. She was also concerned about him, whether he could understand anything of the language yet. The concern was misplaced. Boris looked down at the spoiled princess and brushed her head, ¡°I am sorry princess Maina, let me make up.¡± He offered the princess a seat on her shoulders and turned around, finding Violet wide eyed at his response. He smiled back politely at her, ¡°Will you be with us?¡± he asked, his speech still rough around the edges. He trod outside as the princess held his neck, enjoying the view from his shoulders. Violet followed in tow. ¡°I am surprised,¡± she said, ¡°it is unnatural to grasp a language in a day, and it hasn¡¯t been even a day yet.¡± ¡°Your language is simple, easy to learn. Need few days to get better.¡± He told her confidently. He whirled about thoughtlessly on his foot as the princess exclaimed, ¡°Yay!¡± Violet frowned, ¡°It takes months for many unlearned to do so. Children take a year.¡± ¡°Then I must be smart.¡± ¡°Hard to deny, but impossible to believe.¡± ¡°Once more!¡± the princess demanded and Boris twirled twice, ¡°Like it?¡± he asked. The princess was happy to cheer again. They reached a garden and Boris lowered himself trying to have the princess dismount. The princess refused, liking the new seat she had occupied. ¡°Evil eyes are you alright?¡± the princess asked, now nuzzling her head against his hair. ¡°Hmm? What about?¡± Boris asked her. ¡°Violet told me you were in trouble. Is Elaine scolding you?¡± She bent down so she was now directly looking into his eyes, while grasping the sides of his head. Boris laughed loudly, ¡°Hahaha. No, Miss Elaine was unrelated to my troubles. Wait, she scolds you too?¡± He caught her back so she wouldn¡¯t fall. The princess made a difficult face, her mouth inverted, her nose lifted as a slight frown formed on her face. She closed her eyes in reminiscence, ¡°She is strict, but nice¡­ like mother.¡± A slight loneliness formed on her face and Boris regretted it. He immediately formed a nasty expression, scrunching his nose up and his eyes narrowing, ¡°Elaine is nice?¡± he asked in a ridiculous tone. The princess laughed hard at his face. ¡°What about me?¡± a voice asked suddenly. The Devil had turned up at the mention of her name. Elaine walked out from behind the tree, sudden as the lightning, nearly as deadly. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°Were you talking about me?¡± she smiled at the dumbfounded Boris. ¡°Elaine!¡± the princess cried happily, she jumped off acrobatically and landed on her feet, her arms wide apart. The recoil jerked Boris backward and knocked his back slightly against the bench. The princess ran and jumped straight into Elaine¡¯s arms, much happier than when Boris played with her. ¡°Tch,¡± Boris grumbled. He could clearly see a hierarchy at work, Elaine stood high above like a queen while Violet stood at rock bottom like a beggar. He felt jealous of Elaine and sorry for Violet. Meanwhile Violet was smiling maliciously, seeing Elaine steal the princess from Boris, unaware of his rude thoughts. ¡°My, my, Maina, I heard you were bothering Boris but that doesn¡¯t seem to be the case.¡± Elaine lifted her up gently and patted her back. There was a certain motherly charm to Elaine¡¯s actions and Maina cuddled up, ¡°I wanted to play hero, Boris said he will play.¡± ¡°Is that so? Alright, I don¡¯t see why not.¡± Elaine gave her approval as she let Maina down gently, intending for her to go back to Boris. But Maina held her hand firmly, ¡°I want to play with you,¡± she told Elaine. Boris could take no more of the hierarchy. Just the moment ago, the little princess had been stubbornly clinging to his head, and now he was like air to her. He felt like he had lost the very little dignity he had. If he had any. So he planned vengeance. He would whisk away Elaine and watch the princess whine helplessly, while he taunted her. The only problem was the Devil Elaine, she would turn him to dust if he provoked the princess. Then a clever plan formed in his head. ¡®Everything is fair in love and war, and games.¡¯ If the princess wanted to play, he would play. ¡®Mwahaha,¡¯ he laughed wickedly in his thoughts while he tried to force the most innocent expression outside. Boris crept up slowly behind the princess, in full view of Elaine. Elaine would obviously subvert him if he troubled the princess, but the target was Elaine herself. ¡°Kahahaha,¡± he laughed pretentiously, causing the princess to turn in surprise. ¡°What?¡± she shrunk back into Elaine. ¡°Hero Maina, you caused me great trouble,¡± he glowered. Maina relapsed into her heroic mode, ¡°What do you want evil lord?¡± Her hands clenched over an imaginary hilt, holding the hero¡¯s sword and she stepped forward bravely. ¡°I want thing which is most important to you,¡± Boris pointed towards Maina as she looked over herself, then his finger instantly hovered over to Elaine. Elaine raised an eyebrow curiously but Boris took her by surprise, darting in and using the momentum to lift her up his shoulders. Elaine suppressed a gasp of astonishment as she was hoisted into the air, her hair swayed over Boris¡¯s shoulders and her lips crooned confusingly. ¡°Quiet,¡± Boris hushed her, ¡°play along.¡± He was confident she would calm down once she thought it was a game. She did calm down, and Boris shifted to face Maina, ¡°I have taken the Princess, hero. You will never see her again!¡± He laughed crazily this time, letting his words sink into hero Maina, whose eyes widened. Then he turned and ran, Elaine swung over her shoulder, as he darted across the garden. The garden was large, large enough for him to make some distance. He slowly turned around to find Maina chasing after him with determination. He would exhaust her a bit and then taunt her, he thought maliciously. He circled the entire garden playfully, reaching to where Violet sat, while Maina followed in heaves. Violet looked at him with a mix of pity and despair, as if looking at a dead man. It was then that Boris first began to question his plan. Was it perhaps not good? Did he commit a mistake somewhere? He was by now panting more than he should be, sweating at the weight of Elaine he had carried. He turned to see the princess¡¯s determination had run out, expelled by the tears in her eyes. He sighed mentally, it was probably too much for Maina. He had completely forgotten about Elaine¡¯s reaction. He put down Elaine unceremoniously, his head down in heavy breaths. Elaine¡¯s face was red with simmering anger but he couldn¡¯t see it, she held her head low in silence while he rose up. He wiped the sweat from his brow before carelessly sputtering, ¡°Huff, I never thought you were that hea¡ªeeaaagh!¡± A foot was thrust over his own left foot, threatening to crush it into the ground. It had followed promptly in the middle of his speech, reminding him of his imprudence. Boris had little time to consider the fact though. Reflexively, he labored to pull the foot back from the assault, but the foot was anchored firmly and instead pulled him towards the ground. In the next instant the anchor, Elaine¡¯s foot, was lifted and left him in a state of imbalance as his arms flailed around to grip air. He bent forward in a mistaken attempt to gain balance. The action offered his abdomen in full faith to the well-placed knee of the lifted foot, his own weight guiding his demise. Boris groaned in pain, disconcerted and terrified. Then collapsed. In his blurred vision, he saw a seething Devil. Violet had caught the running princess and covered her eyes, fearing the nature of gore that followed would be too much for an innocent mind. She knew all too well what awaited Boris and made no attempt to save him. The fool deserved it. There were some lessons that were best learnt the hard way. One of those involved a show of courtesy towards the maiden of light and obviously abhorred flinging her over one¡¯s shoulder. There was brief period of lecturing, which involved Elaine explaining to Boris the fallacy of his deeds, while she pulled on his ear with a tender smile and ear-rending strength. Boris was allowed to smile back and nod in obedience. Anything else and he feared the he might miss his ears. ¡°I noticed you learnt the language fast,¡± Elaine commented after calming down. ¡°Yes, but not complete. I need to learn more,¡± Boris admitted while rubbing his ears softly. ¡°The progress is admirable nonetheless,¡± Elaine praised. ¡°Is not it?¡± Boris smiled in satisfaction, finally getting some praise. ¡°Now then, for the punishment,¡± Elaine affirmed. ¡°Eh?¡± Boris uttered in surprise, surprise that the lecture and ear pulling were not the real punishment. He had thought he had gotten off easy but he was wrong. Any thoughts of escape had already been curtailed, thanks to the past experiences. He could only pray that mercy existed. ¡°I know, why don¡¯t we play the hero game?¡± Elaine proposed. She seemed immensely refreshed now, energy radiating from her bright expression. Boris pondered poorly over his role as a stress reliever. He nodded in agreement, not that he had a choice. Boris the steed was having a hard day. The hero had rescued the Princess and now struggled to bring her to safety. He could only trust his horse while he strode on, the princess at his back. The horse neighed in almost human laments as he desperately faced the weight of the treacherous road. Yet the horse never failed to respond to the hero¡¯s trust, sometimes sprinting, sometimes crawling as he labored on. Finally, he caved in from exhaustion. The hero cried no tears as he climbed down with the Princess to continue his journey. Boris the troll was notorious. He blocked the hero¡¯s path haughtily, asking him to hand over the Princess. The hero refused and had a difficult fight. The hero stomped the troll¡¯s left foot with great valor and the troll cried in grief even as he danced on one foot, holding the other in his hand. The troll talked in ludicrous language of cruelty and fairness as the hero left him in dearth resuming his journey. The great archimage joined him to defeat the Evil lord. Boris the demon lord was horrendous. He limped crudely as his face twisted, a half in smile and the other half in agony. Truly he was the most repulsive of demons. The Princess herself aided the hero in his effort and the archimage chimed in. Together they pulled at his red demonic ears, causing the demon lord to fall over and apologize profusely. The hero gleamed at victory, justice had been done and evil vanquished. But victory was short lived. ¡°What are you doing?¡± an accusative tone coursed through the air. There was another sudden appearance. Boris the human was getting fed up with sudden appearances. He had had enough of them for a while, including his own sudden appearance. The surprise had died down and only misgivings remained. Therefore, when the new guy entered Boris expected nothing but trouble from him. The guy spared him no glance, like he was a stone by the road. Well he did technically lie on the ground by the side but he was too big and different in form. ¡°Are you playing those childish games again, Maina?¡± his tone was sharp, with a certain pride that the nobility held as their prerogative. Then there was this annoyance in his tone, kind of like the king. ¡°Brother! You are back,¡± Maina spoke in half joy and half guilt, but with the same innocence she always carried. ¡°Maina, how many times have I told you to stop wasting your time? You need to grow up prim and proper, mother cannot look after you every time,¡± the prince continued to scold the princess, without as much as a greeting in response. He irritated Boris, who wanted to whack him off. Against his impulses, Boris refrained from interfering in what he considered a sibling fight. Maina was slightly irked. She made a defiant frown while she searched for excuses, ¡°But it was only for a while, and I even asked Elaine.¡± ¡°Maina, there are no excuses for slack and sloth. Our father is busy with the kingdom¡¯s affairs and our mother is sick. Even our siblings are busy with their responsibilities. The least you can do is not cause any more trouble.¡± The offensive touch of authority streaked his tone. This was definitely a spoilt brat, Boris reasoned. He was barely of age, maybe twelve or thirteen, and yet he behaved as if he was the next king-to-be. He talked in big borrowed words when he barely understood them. His behavior disgusted him. ¡°That is enough!¡± Boris roared rather unnaturally as he stood up, anger overflowing his voice. The people around him cringed, he had never used a sharp tone before. The prince looked at him for the first time, finally noticing the stone only after stumbling upon it. He narrowed his eyes in a creepy stare and a curious expression. ¡°Who is this?¡± he asked as if Boris was an object. ¡°I am Boris Debron, one of the summoned,¡± Boris told him curtly. The prince looked from Violet to Elaine before finally turning back to him, ¡°Oh yes, the fourth one. I heard about you, they say you are¡­ inept?¡± The voice held obvious ridicule, causing Boris to twitch. His fists clenched, ready to whack the arrogant snob. Elaine caught his arm as she stepped smoothly between them, obstructing the prince¡¯s view. ¡°That is enough, Your Highness Flynn.¡± She bowed elegantly at the prince, a very slight, very graceful bow. It was at moments like these when Boris wondered if Elaine was royalty, or something even more important. She felt detached, unreachable and enormously dignified, in a strong contrast to how she usually was. He felt his heart flutter in awe, nervousness beating through him. The prince jittered similarly, taking a step back. Elaine smiled gracefully, ¡°I beg your pardon but you have just returned from a long and tiring journey, why not take some time to rest? I will handle this issue, I assure you.¡± The prince started and could not disobey her, ¡°I-If you assure me. Alright, I will do that.¡± He turned and walked away imperiously, turning his head once to warn Maina, ¡°Avoid bad company Maina, it only ruins you.¡± Another of those borrowed words. The prince seemed to have been lectured in these tenets often. Boris smiled, considering that it was mostly his body and not his mind that learned those words. Elaine sighed in relief as she released her grip on Boris¡¯s hand. It was somewhat sad and lonely but Boris ignored the sensation and turned to Elaine in question. He wanted answers to his queries, the foremost being when he would get permission to beat some sense into the brazen prince. From the look on Elaine¡¯s face however, he wouldn¡¯t. She looked at him as if he was a five-year-old stubborn kid, shaking her head in dejection. She called for a servant and had him accompany the princess back. Maina was visibly shaken but Elaine calmed her down with some words. With the princess gone, Boris awaited Elaine¡¯s response, ¡°Well?¡± he asked as they sat down. ¡°Well, what were you doing?¡± Violet retorted, looking at his now relaxed fist. ¡°Trying to knock some sense into him,¡± Boris answered honestly. ¡°What are you, dumb?! He is royalty! Even heroes don¡¯t harm royalty.¡± Violet was appalled at his lack of common sense. It might have sounded playful over the last few days, but offending royalty was crossing the line. ¡°I don¡¯t care, the guy is obnoxious,¡± Boris replied. ¡°Boris!¡± Elaine reprimanded him. ¡°I mean the prince does not show appropriate respect for his family,¡± Boris corrected himself. ¡°Listen to me Boris, you cannot antagonize the royal family. Besides,¡± Elaine sighed, ¡°they have their own problems.¡± ¡°Like what? A sick mother and a busy father? Tell me about it, half my world has the same problem,¡± Boris obviously exaggerated. At some point, his language had improved, though he himself did not notice. ¡°Half your world does not reign over Cumaria. This is a different world Boris, and things are different here. You should have noticed by now,¡± Elaine told him exasperatedly. Then she sighed again, she was sighing a lot. ¡°Cumaria is a nation at front, always at the risk of an invasion from the demon lands. It is in a latent state of war. The royal family shoulders the responsibility to defend this nation. Their upbringing is harsh and strict, a lot more than other nations. Add to that the queen¡¯s sickness and the advent of heroes and obviously, things get hectic. There will be some friction. In what family are there no sibling fights?¡± ¡°I get that, but he is just too rude,¡± Boris pointed out. ¡°That is how royalty are here. You don¡¯t need to worry about Maina,¡± Elaine added, ¡°Prince Flynn has a busy schedule. He will probably have left by tomorrow anyway.¡± ¡°If that¡¯s what you say,¡± Boris conceded. ¡°Now, didn¡¯t you have some learning left to do?¡± Elaine gestured with her head towards the library. ¡°Argh! I totally forgot! See you later,¡± Boris strode off towards the library. The event lingered in his head but learning Humarian took precedence. There was also Elaine¡¯s assurance. Boris trusted her well. When Boris had left the scene Violet and Elaine both collapsed back in their seats. ¡°He is too hot-headed,¡± Violet worried, ¡°more troublesome than the heroes.¡± ¡°Now, now, that simple mindedness is a trait of honesty. Prudence, he will learn with time.¡± Elaine smiled faintly as her eyes focused at the distant library. ¡°If he has time,¡± Violet added bleakly. ¡°Do not lose hope, he is from a different world. He might very well survive.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we tell him about his condition.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t. Not yet. He was depressed just this morning when the comprehension magic failed. There is no need to burden him with concerns that might prove unnecessary.¡± ¡°Morning, huh? He tricked me well. How did you bestow him with the language, immersion magic?¡± ¡°No way would I know of such convenient magic. Didn¡¯t you cast magic to enhance his retention?¡± They both stared at each other for a while, surprised. ¡°Unbelievable, he really learnt it?¡± ¡°Impossible.¡± ¡­¡­. Sylvia stood before the backdrop of the sun, panting heavily. The rays glinted off her borders, giving her an enigmatic look. Her robe fluttered in the air, beating against the grass in soft hymns. Her hair was unkempt and sweat coursed along her face, dripping from her chin onto her bosom. Thankfully, the robe had been enchanted to reject dirt and remove moisture. It bore no traces of her ordeal. She never thought that a mage¡¯s training would require so much physical effort. She had been running incessantly while she stood at the same spot. The situation had given new meaning to the word worthless. But her mentor was satisfied. Grey Feyl Farlore was actually smiling meaningfully after she had finished with the exercise. ¡°Excellent work, Miss Sylvia,¡± he congratulated her, ¡°I am glad to have such a gifted pupil.¡± Sylvia looked at him in annoyance. The old mage had completed the same routine with her, yet his brow didn¡¯t hold a single drop of sweat. Even if he had used magic, he was far too much accomplished. It irked her that he had barely suffered while she was down to her last straw of strength. ¡°Will you tell me now,¡± she asked, ¡°tell me why you had me run on a rotating table like a clown?¡± The old mage had literally put her on round platform, partially magical. It swerved on a long slender pointed axis, like a long spike. They stood on opposite ends of the platform and it rotated, swaying up and down slightly. Initially Grey had kept it balanced straight while he taught Sylvia how to manipulate yin for equilibrium, while she ran circumferentially on the platform. Once she had learnt the method, which she did quite soon, Grey started letting the platform stray wildly. Nausea and dizziness overcame her if she could not maintain her equilibrium. Doing so required a fine control of mana, and she was poor at that. The detestable mage had zeroed in on her weakness, teaching her the hard way. The whole contraption was stupid and she wanted to blast it away, but Grey would not allow it. To her credit, she had learned to maintain her equilibrium rather well and after a few initial breaks when she had to be healed of vertigo, she had not been in an especially poor state. She was exhausted, however, and physical effort was not exactly her cup of tea, even after coming to this world. Though she fared far better than Boris because she had been blessed as a hero, she was not exactly as amazing as Ray. ¡°Why a rotating tabletop?¡± she asked Grey, who stayed silent in face of her grumpiness. He offered her a seat he had just conjured out of earth and water he had brought along. She calmed down in a bit, returning to her usual composed manner. ¡°What you lacked foremost,¡± Grey began, ¡°was the confidence in your control of mana. It is extremely important for an accomplished mage, one you intend to become. Now, there are a lot of ways to learn mana control but by my experience, equilibrium training is the most fruitful. It inculcates mana control into instinct. It makes it seem like breathing, involuntary and effortless.¡± ¡°And?¡± Sylvia asked. ¡°And,¡± Grey replied as he touched her hair, casting a spell to tidy it, ¡°that contraption is the fastest way to do so. It is my personal invention. Seeing as you possess great aptitude for magic I chose the most efficient way for you. Does it displease you?¡± ¡°It does,¡± Sylvia spoke while her hair floated lightly at the spell, strands loosening and dirt escaping. A cool soothing sensation flowed through her head. ¡°In the light of the results though, I will choose to ignore it.¡± ¡°Your consideration is much appreciated,¡± Grey gave her a quirky smile, ¡°Now, I think you want to meet up with Ray. You had better hurry as we will be leaving soon.¡± The old man winked, he gave her one chance to spend some time with Ray and Sylvia gratefully accepted it. He guided her along to where Ray would have been resting by now. The sun was climbing low and would soon touch the horizon. They needed to leave before dusk fell, which would barely be an hour. Sylvia reached the waterfall where Ray relaxed, with some timely help from Grey and the fulgur. The forest had begun to retire, flocks of birds returning to their nests and insects speaking the language of night. The air was peaceful and the waterfall cascaded down beautifully, leaving strong splashes in the ambient tranquility. Sylvia searched for Ray. Her eyes caught his masculine figure upon a rock nearby. He had grown even more striking over the week, with the refined aura of a hero. She wondered if she herself had grown any prettier, if Ray looked any differently at her now. She knew he did not. Ray would not change even if he changed. He would always be dense but reliable. But she liked him the way he was. She crept softly towards Ray planning to surprise him. The surprise came to her instead when she noticed that Claire was already beside Ray. She flinched at her loss but it was no time for regrets. ¡°Ray!¡± she called happily and jumped into a hug as he turned. Cherishing the strength of his arms as he caught her, the thump of his heartbeat against her chest and his breath against his hair. Claire would call this unfair, but she considered it her just reward. The three sat in silence, dipping their legs in the cool stream and creating ripples that danced on water. The moment passed and they made their way back to the castle, along with their mentors. They were all too tired for the day. There were no talks at the dining table. Boris was also quiet, maybe out of consideration. Sleep clung heavily to them and they did not resist. The quiet night hung heavily in the air, silencing the clamor of the day with the calm of darkness. 5. Impediments 5. Impediments The Ciona brook is like an unfit king, it starts out of a fall, amidst splendor and clamor, spreading out to engulf everything it can. The surprise is brief, as it soon begins its downward journey under gravity. Initially it roars in defiance, striking violently against obstacles, throwing froth and foam in rage against the surroundings, creating peril for one and all. Struggle as it may to deny it, the descent continues. The obstacles finally gain ground, sapping away its energy and trapping its course. It slows down, slackening and losing momentum as it widens in despair. The dirt settles down, making it shallower and flimsier. At the end it loses itself, being annexed by another larger river. But the Ciona brook is useful and harmless, unlike an unfit king. In this respect it is more like salt, adding subtle flavor to everything. To trees, grass, rocks, soil, fishes, humans and heroes. One hero in particular, Ray Edson. Ray Edson ran up against the flow, like a child up the stairs of his favorite bakery shop, ignoring the crowd of water trying to push him back. He sifted through the rocks and currents effortlessly. Every step put him deeper in the water, closer to the turbulence at the top. His speed did not wane, keeping its constancy in face of uncertainty. He stood at the top soon, neck deep in water with a deeper satisfaction on his face. He smiled at the waterfall, savoring its beauty as he took deep breaths in relaxation. The waterfall itself was a cascade, nearing five hundred feet in total and dropping in shorter vertical spans. It took the final plunge at about eighty feet, out of an abutment of rocks that resembled cupped hands. The Ciona falls gave rise to the Ciona brook, both named after the old word for ¡®mercy¡¯. Ray turned back, running down the entire length of the brook to whence he came, only to trek back against the water once more. People would call this insanity, but insanity often bred great heroes. There was a method to such madness. The entire routine took Ray three hours, growing shorter with each passing day. He had augmented his strength and mastered his weight. He carried thrice his usual weight with him as he ascended a rocky ledge. Arthur had fashioned the ledge out of earth magic, it stood in the current of the fall. Arthur stood upon it, sword and shield drawn. ¡°Begin.¡± The practice began. Ray surged in, drawing the entirety of his mana, as he thrust his sword at Arthur. The fluent strike cut through the water, defying force to aim straight at Arthur¡¯s neck. Arthur parried it easily with a dull and heavy clang from his shield and his sword slashed at Ray. Ray parried it out in one fluid motion as his sword returned in a horizontal sweep. The two swords met as Arthur stepped back, his sword immediately going for a subsequent thrust. It pierced empty water as Ray evaded, bringing his shield in for a bash. Then shield met with shield, the force hammering at the water around in a low groan. The swords came out deceptively, as if from within the shields, both clashing at each other in sharper screeches. Water split about in slashes and shockwaves, drowning the intensity of strikes and silencing the sparks of steel against steel. What remained was a blur, an afterimage of swords¡¯ trajectories creating opacities in water. The thrusts were swift, vanishing as they withdrew to create false openings. The slashes were powerful, enough to pulverize the shield if blocked head on. Then the pattern changed. Three days in and Ray had absorbed the swordplay like a sponge. His movements were confident and his techniques fluent. He was beginning to employ magic better, in both offense and defense. ¡°Alright, that is enough,¡± Arthur ended the practice, allowing Ray some rest. Once they had rested and had lunch, Ray returned to his exercises. ¡­. In the deeper part of the Laur forest stood unnatural mounds of earth, punctuated by burrows. They were the nests of Turtlebacks. Dangerous monsters that hunted in packs. They were a fatal threat to anyone who ventured too far into the forest. Being territorial however, they did not cross over into the settlements outside. Because they held little threat to the outside, the kingdom had not issued extermination quests against them. Moreover, their breeding patterns were inexhaustible. Roads dissected the forest from the outside settlements and guard outposts covered both sides of the road at regular intervals. Wooden palisades stood in between, preventing stray monsters from invading. Only seasoned woodcutters accompanied by guards or soldiers for security were allowed in. A part of the palisading near the southern forest had been damaged, scarred and dented by what was probably some wild animal, monsters rarely ventured this far. The repair would take some days and a bit of logging for raw materials. An awful silence resided deeper inside the forest. The earth had stirred violently a while ago and a mound had collapsed. The homeless Turtlebacks were seething in anger at the tragedy they had faced. Being of lesser intelligence, they could only blame nature and feel rage. Feeling sorry was not part of their program, nor was building a new home right away. They roamed about in search of a better home or a better place. In their ignorance of geography, they sauntered south. Trouble had begun to brew. ¡­. The garden floor was strewn with books. Boris sat on the grass, studying them with concentration. A parchment and penbrush rested in his hands. He would scribble across them randomly. The morning air was pleasant and the grass tickled his legs gently in the mild breeze. The tree shaded him from the sun, letting a few rays tingle his skin intermittently. The scent of flowers wafted through the air. A hint of lavender, mixed with rose and jasmine. Tranquility should have washed over him, aiding his concentration. Yet for the little princess that sat upon his shoulders, stimulating him with hair-pulls and pranks, Boris would have found the situation too good to be true. This was the compromise he had proposed to prevent the princess from storming the library and raising a commotion. It had been three days and Boris was done with Humarian. He was proficient enough to read through books and understand them. Given a month, he could have become a literary genius, but time was not a luxury he had. Besides, he never liked those literary masters. Flamboyant authors who flaunted their feeble grasp of literary finesse by flinging fanciful fillers and perfunctory formalities flawed with a fickle sense of function. More importantly, he needed to learn fast. From what he had heard, his friends were progressing at an incomparable rate. After returning from the forest last time they had left again, this time for a week. It was an expedition meant to train them fully. Once they returned they would really be heroes. If he wanted to stand with them, he needed to make progress of his own, and soon. He had taken to learning Cylian next. The language of Elves was not that difficult either and because many attendants had to deal with foreign dignitaries, they knew it well. Boris also shifted his attention back to magic. Even if he could not cast magic, the knowledge itself could prove beneficial in some way. He had remembered the dream from a while ago. Thus, he sat here before Violet with a newly opened book about spells, and princess Maina upon his shoulders. After a few pages, he encountered the first spell and frowned. ¡°This is a spell?¡± he asked Violet confusingly, ¡°It makes no sense.¡± The symbols were Humarian, but the words were not. ¡°Because you are reading it wrong,¡± Violet pointedly told him. Boris turned gruff. ¡°I know perfectly well how to read Humarian,¡± he retorted. ¡°But not how to read magic or magic spells. Do you?¡± Violet asked provocatively. She was obviously enjoying stomping upon his pride, maybe irritated by his constant display of great capability at acquiring the language. Boris stifled an urge to smack the bratty mage while he responded, ¡°Then teach it to me.¡± ¡°Is that any way to ask a favor?¡± She had her arms crossed, as a faint haughty smile curved her lips. ¡°Miss Violet,¡± his temple twitched, ¡°will you please,¡± he forcefully restrained his right arm eager to spring into action, ¡°teach me about magic spells?¡± his lips jerked up in unnaturally forced politeness. An ugly smile sat upon his face. ¡°Ugh,¡± Violet squirmed at his creepy expression while Maina stayed still. Maina had learned to be a lot quieter after Boris had asked her politely. She just sat and listened intently while she pulled a few of his hairs or tugged his ear, nothing he could not tolerate after a few hero games. He did wonder where she got her violent habits but Elaine obviously could not be blamed for that. He still wanted to live. ¡°Alright,¡± Violet condescended, ¡°let me tell you about magic spells. You understand how it is difficult to work complex actions with basic magic?¡± Boris nodded, recounting his second lesson with Violet. ¡°Spells are a workaround for that. Assisted magic basically means using spells.¡± ¡°How do they work?¡± Boris asked, curious about their nature. ¡°Let me see,¡± Violet scratched her head as she pondered, ¡°Suppose I ask you to add up numbers too big to count on your fingers, what do you do?¡± Boris questioned the sanity of Violet for asking such a mundane question, ¡°I add them up on paper, of course.¡± ¡°Exactly, and if I ask you to add a number repeatedly you multiply it instead. You see where I am going?¡± Boris shook his head honestly. ¡®Maybe you are going insane,¡¯ he thought but instead said, ¡°Not at all.¡± Violet frowned at him, ¡°Stupid aren¡¯t you? I am saying that you are using a shortcut, a previously devised method to deal with complex situations. You are using a formula, understand? Magic spells are just like that formula. They can be used only for specific purposes, but they fulfill that role well. They are magical formula.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Boris finally realized, ¡°it is like a different language written with the same letters.¡± Trying to read spells by learning Humarian was like trying to read mathematics by learning English. It would be legible nonsense at best. ¡°Very good. Magic spells can be written in any script but their language is entirely different. Only if you know both can you truly understand the spell.¡± The understanding sent waves of excitement through Boris. Magic was an entirely different language, with rules and formulas. If he could understand them, he might be able to solve the problems he was facing. Why he was inept? And evidently, how to return to his world? ¡°Alright,¡± Violet lectured, ¡°don¡¯t get lost in reveries. Pay attention okay, it is not every day you get an archimage to teach you magic.¡± Boris wanted to remind her that she had taught him almost every day since he came to this world. He could almost see her petulant eyes and puffed up cheeks at that response. However, he chose silence and delved into the lessons with Violet. By the time he was finished, evening had set in. Maina lay across Violet¡¯s lap, napping peacefully. ¡°I will take her back,¡± Violet told him as she scooped Maina up gently. Boris packed up the books and returned to the library, Cylian awaited him. ¡­.. Claire sprinted silently through the forest, footsteps gliding on the ground. Her speed left a slight after-draught behind; the grass caught it well and silenced it. Yet she left no other impressions, no footsteps, no marks, nothing. Even the fallen leaves lay almost unruffled. She was like a phantom rushing about, passing through trees and branches. The foliage was dense and the vegetation tall, making her figure difficult to discern. The sunlight was confined to small crevices, turning the forest dark and hazy. An arrow flitted through, skimming the air with a subtle whistle. It trailed between the branches, swerving in Claire¡¯s direction. In moments, it was directly behind her with a speed surpassing her own. Claire evaded by tilting her body and changing direction. She tapped on the next trunk, launching swiftly in another direction as a second arrow passed through where she was. There was second and third tap before Claire was finally gushing through the air, from branch to branch. Leaves barely grazed her face and arrows barely grazed her hair. She had her bow drawn out and an arrow notched. Another arrow swished. This time a thick trunk blocked her path to evasion. Claire stepped up vertically, climbing up the trunk in spirals. Arrows studded the tree, marking each step she took. Always just a hair¡¯s breadth away. She circled back around the trunk, readying her aim. The momentary cover gave her enough time to think. She searched, listening, observing, and feeling the air. The grass was breathing unnaturally, some fifty feet away. That must be her target. The bow was already taut by the time she came about where she had started. Three arrows left her bow in quick succession, tracing the possible trajectories of prey. Her brown eyes caught a glint of the prey, Diana, already hurtling away after launching an arrow in retaliation. The expected arrow was avoided, but Diana had disappeared again in the distraction. She was too stealthy. Claire sighed as she jumped away, evacuating the tree. Her feet found the ground with ease and her back found the cover of the trunk. But the arrows came from above, giving her little time to dodge. The bow was already slung back, a dagger in her right arm struck the arrowhead, parrying it away. Her left hand pulled out the second dagger as she swung her right, ready for the next assault. Immediately afterwards, a swarm of arrows flew down, their accuracy was poor but they converged to her spot. Claire stepped back rapidly, her body swaying slightly as her daggers parried the arrows in range. They weaved in a zigzag manner, covering each other while protecting Claire. Finally, a last lazy arrow glided towards her. Claire prepared her arms to swipe at the last arrow, and shuddered in fear. She pumped her legs hard, swinging back high in the air as the last arrow struck ground. The earth caved, shivering under the weight of one slender arrow. A wave emerged out of the impact, throwing her back against the thick trunk. Her heart pounded heavily as she tried to brace for the subsequent fall, strengthening her feet. Two arrows plunged in before the fall, piercing through her sleeves into the trunk. They hung her back. Diana dropped out of a height from above. She landed leisurely before Claire, her face a feral smile, her golden hair tied back into a long braid that swung around her neck. Claire just looked down and sighed in defeat. She was yet inflict a single scratch on Diana, on the other hand her own robes were ridden with holes. ¡°Nicely done,¡± Diana praised her as she removed the arrows and Claire jumped down. They cleared away some of the grass nearby and sat down, taking a break. Claire was learning fast. She could already track objects by their sound and analyze things by interpreting mana. She had learnt to augment speed and senses, making her a wild animal. Her progress with archery was immense. The arrows met their mark even at large distances, and could course through unstable wind and terrain. She could imbue them with magic, making her arrows formidable. Even with daggers, she could land swift, precise hits. She had killed a few hounds at close range, the wild dogs had been strong but slow and their heads especially vulnerable. She was becoming a hunter, unfazed by the wild. She still needed to learn how to swerve her arrows around obstacles. Diana could have her arrows curve out in mid flight, amazing and deadly. Large magic like the arrow barrage were also difficult to learn. Claire moved her mind through the motions of archery as her mouth chewed on grilled meat. Rabbit meat was good, although the cooking was crude and flavor far from delicious. However, with the amount of physical exertion she did, Claire found that hunger was indeed the best spice. The grass hushed softly as they silently continued their meal. ¡­.. The scout crouched low upon the ground, examining the tattered fragment of cloth he found. The dirty green color hinted at the remains of guard¡¯s dress. The coagulated black was what disturbed him. It was definitely blood. The scene looked like it had been wrecked by a typhoon. Trees broken and splintered, their remains littered about the uneven ground. The soil was naked at places, the ground gouged out and soaked in blood. This was scene of carnage. But there were no corpses. His pulse spiked, a monster had come south. South enough to invade Jinor. He needed to warn them. Reinforcements were required. He carefully pocketed the remains of the guard and turned around. There was no imminent danger, no signs of the monster in vicinity, so he relaxed a bit. A shadow crept behind silently. The scout was caught off guard and fell to his death. He regretted his naivety in those last few moments. He had been a fool, but he could not let it end. Not this way. He breathed his last on the ground, onto a hastily retrieved piece of parchment. ¡°Trouble in south Laur,¡± was all he could say. His face fell down onto the parchment, hiding it. The paper flinched, crumpling upon itself. The scout lay dead. A breeze blew across the corpse and the paper disappeared; a bird fluttered away. ¡­. Sylvia stood beside the small lake. If all went well, she would soon graduate from the ridiculous lessons over the past week. She didn¡¯t want to repeat those. Every morning she had to run on that ridiculous contraption for hours, while she practiced her magic at the same time. Grey said it helped maintain her constitution and improve her control. It might have but it did nothing to help her frustration. She felt like a clown. Today, she was offered a way out. One strike, one successful strike. That was what Grey wanted out of her and she would show it to him. She stood firmly, legs at shoulder width, staff pointed down. Grey had even taught her about combat and other miscellaneous topics. No doubt she felt like she had been missing her sleep. Oddly enough, she was never too tired. Exhaustion only ever reached to her aching limbs and an hour of rest relieved it remarkably well. She felt change like never before. Inhuman change. And though it brought confidence, it also brought concerns. But the first of her concerns was to go back to her world. The fight with Grey was a step in that direction. She took the step holding her staff tilted. Her staff was a long five feet weapon, carved out of metal and reinforced with enchantments. It would work well for dealing heavy strikes. It did not look like a weapon for a mage but Sylvia knew better. Two small moon-mix orbs were nestled at each end, concealed within heavy protection of metal. They would not break as the strikes transferred all impact to the shaft instead. This weapon served both purposes, magical and combative. Though she would rarely use it for any. The primary purpose of an aid, like staff, was to amplify magic. Her reserve of mana was large enough that she did not need to amplify her magic. And her magic was strong enough that she could prevent any attempt at close range combat. The staff was thus a decoration, but Grey had her practice extensively with it. She would probably need it in the future. ¡°Then, let us begin,¡± Grey spoke after seeing Sylvia prepare herself. He stood about fifteen feet across Sylvia, his face sober and eyes sharp. His robe did not flutter in the wind, making it seem heavy. He felt larger, more daunting than intelligent. Sylvia returned his pressure with confidence, and the air between them turned heavy. Silence. One second. Two seconds. Then there was a small splash, a stone dropped into the lake. Sylvia took that as her clue. A fireball darted into Grey. Always begin with simple magic, was the advice Sylvia followed. An orb of water extinguished the fireball. Sylvia fired a second and a third in quick succession, all swallowed by water. She drew in as lightning streaked out from her hand, the most offensive but taxing of elemental magics. It was repelled. Grey had shielded himself by a spell, which was the cue for the second stage. Sylvia blew a blast of wind, forcing Grey to maintain his spell, while she prepared the spell. The fire gun, was what she liked to call it. The spell flung fireballs into the line of fire at enormous speed, making it difficult to dodge. The bombardment eroded at Grey¡¯s magical shield, ready to penetrate it. Grey waved his staff at the ground, getting serious. A small pillar of earth erupted, taking the brunt of assault. It would have soon crumbled but a second pillar erupted before it, slightly tilted towards Sylvia. More followed in quick succession, each one more tilted than before, as if the building would fall. It all took a few seconds. Sylvia realized a moment too late what was happening, the next pillar was ready to pummel her with force. She tried to dodge but her foot was caught, frozen in ice instantly. Before the ice could take charge, Sylvia pumped in mana to her foot, creating heat to melt the ice and repelling the yin restraints that would obviously follow. The restraints shied away. She blew the last pillar at the same time with a blast of fire as she withdrew to the side. ¡°That is cheating!¡± She shouted. This was a surprise, she had expected Grey to just defend. ¡°I never said I wouldn¡¯t attack,¡± Grey replied simply. A whip of yin snapped at Sylvia as he spoke and a trail of thin ice chased her on the ground as she ran. Sylvia evaded the whip while concentrating the magic to her feet. A small rim of defense formed around her steps, reflecting attacks from below. The trail of ice ceased abruptly when it met the rim and collapsed all the way through into water. The water froze again, into spicules that leapt at Sylvia, threatening to rip her clothes. Sylvia blew a whirlwind, scattering the spicules about and some of them back at Grey. They melted in the wind and the droplets vanished. She cast a second spell, splices of wind aimed at Grey. Grey blocked them with a wall of earth and lugged massive fireballs from behind. Sylvia extinguished them with a defensive wall of water. The wall of earth collapsed, and lightning shot through immediately after. It sprinted into the wall of water, creating a blast of air and steam. But Sylvia was nowhere beside it. She had skimmed around and Grey found her as soon as the heavy blast of wind she fired at him. He immediately cast a shielding spell. The blast coalesced and penetrated the shield, extruding a small marble of stone that stormed towards Grey. Grey stepped aside reflexively and the stone exploded at where Grey had stood, surprising him. An orb of water shot out of the explosion, coming straight at Grey. Grey pushed it back with wind, his palm facing the orb. His wind met no resistance as the orb vanished within. Instead, a spindle of ice sprouted abruptly, branching out and tapering. It pricked his finger and scraped his palm. Grey broke it immediately with his magic but he made no further moves. For a while he stood, watching Sylvia gloat with a wide smile etched across her face. Then he laughed. He laughed in a good mood. Even if it was a scratch, he had lost. What he had gained was a splendid pupil. The last spell was hybrid spell, one that Sylvia had invented because he never taught her that. She had earned her release. As far as he was concerned, she was a full-fledged mage, a great one. Sylvia slumped down heavily, sensing the battle was over. Her heart continued to thump, half from the exertion and half from the excitement. She had won. It had required a trick but she had won. She looked at the sky overhead. It was clear with few clouds. A slight tinge of pink was emerging near the west. The evening was creeping in and birds were returning in flocks. Insects had become noisy. She was thoroughly exhausted and craved rest. She lay down for a small nap as Grey prepared camp. ¡­. ¡°We will be going to Laur forest to meet up with heroes.¡± Violet informed Boris early in the morning. ¡°With Ray and them? Why?¡± Boris asked, not much interested. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Some problems have sprung up, we need to discuss them,¡± Violet told him. ¡°They are in trouble?¡± Boris asked, slightly concerned. ¡°Oh no, they are not. We need to plan a course of action. The garrison reported of some trouble south of Laur forest. We could send soldiers but with the threat of war, it is better to keep them here. A considerable part of army is already up North and further reinforcements may be needed. General Welmar is already there seeing to the preparations.¡± ¡°So?¡± Boris replied to the roundabout explanation, ¡°You are thinking about sending the heroes south, to deal with the disturbance?¡± ¡°Not us, Arthur. The garrison is under his command. Your friends will not be alone, we will discuss who goes with them and assist them. It will be like a test of their abilities.¡± ¡°Like a hero quest? Can I come too?¡± Boris was excited to see the outside now. He was fluent in Humarian and grasping Cylian well, he was even beginning to read up on Suren. He was confident he could go outside and prove some help, or at least not prove a burden. ¡°No,¡± Elaine denied straightforwardly, ¡°the Laur forest is a dangerous place, and you have no capacity to survive there. If it comes down to an emergency, it will put your life at risk. You can barely fight, you possess no magic and your tongue only causes trouble. I don¡¯t think we can bring you, do you?¡± That was harsh, really harsh. But it was the truth and Boris accepted it, with reluctance and bitterness. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want me to go? I mean, how do you intend to relieve stress without hitting me?¡± Boris asked Elaine, intending to get back at her. ¡°How indeed?¡± Elaine pondered, ¡°I know!¡± she hit her palm with a fist at a good idea, ¡°how about I take a part of you with me,¡± she smiled beautifully dark, ¡°like your ear?¡± Boris screamed like the usual, as Elaine pulled his ear with godly strength. He sometimes wondered how she possessed so much strength, but right then he was wondering how to get out of her grip, while apologizing. His tongue was indeed trouble. ¡°We will be back within a few days, do not cause any trouble while we are gone,¡± Elaine instructed her like a mother leaving the house to her troublesome child. How right she was. If she had known of the mess he would create, she would instead have opted to bring him along. After all she mostly left him because she wanted him to study up well. His progress with the languages and understanding of magic were impressive. If he improved on his knowledge, he could prove a formidable force, enough to accompany the heroes. She wanted to give him that chance. ¡­. The settlement of Jinor was located directly on the Sikri road from the capital to the Taeryn pass. The route skirted around the forest of Laur, branching on the opposite side to reach cities and towns. The entire length was paved in stone, sometimes cobbled near the settlements but mostly flat, bricked stone. The road seemed well maintained, without cracks and denudations. Hooves clattered and clacked as the party made their way to Jinor. Arthur and Grey had returned to the castle, leaving Ray as the only male in the party. The air was a torrent, smacking across their faces in inertial apathy. Their robes fluttered noisily, swelling up behind them. To put it highly, it was a thrilling experience, feeling the air swim through every contour of the body. To put it plainly, it was unnerving. The Fulgurs obviously placed more importance on speed than on comfort. The only comfort was their long manes that tickled the faces and brushed the hands with a silky touch. Riding the Fulgurs was extremely tiring for long journeys, the fatigue accruing with each mile. The positive side was that they would barely take a day. They rested near a guard post in the afternoon. It was a small tower about three stories in height, with an attached quarter. There was provision for light and some basic amenities. The route was secured well and they had come across no bandits or robbers, not that it would have posed a problem. ¡°The Sikri route is under careful watch. Mostly because we never know what might cross over the mountains or through the forest. Some monsters are a real threat if detected too late, because they breed too fast. After the tragedy of Dunsig the then king commanded the construction of watch posts and guard posts all along right into the Taeryn pass. This has also served as a deterrent to bandits and made it a prominent trade route.¡± No wonder they had seen a long queue of wagons and carriages recently. ¡­. While our heroes were busy with their arduous journey to defeat the newfound evil, Boris sat leisurely in the grass again. The only playmate he had today was the princess. He sifted through books, taking time to understand the spell formulations and their effects. Violet had coached him well in all the basic processes that went into creating spells and as Boris skimmed through books, he found that almost any spell could be devised with a slightly thoughtful approach. This was obviously in retrospect, after he had read and understood the effect he worked backwards to dissect the formula. It felt easy after seeing it once but creating an actual spell must have been mindboggling. He still could not fathom how the mage himself cast the spell using mana but he guessed it would be a similar to basic magic. A strong image of the spell itself was probably the catalyst, he would need to confirm with Violet. The higher spells were another problem, from a certain point they went from complicated to simply indecipherable. It was as if parts were concealed, made implicit or highly condensed. The princess pulled his mind back, all through his hair, into the present, ¡°Ouch!¡± he reacted. ¡°Not! Play with me too, you only play with books,¡± the princess jumped down from her seat on his shoulders to his side. She sulked as she pointed at the books lying around him. Without Violet and Elaine, she was probably feeling left out. ¡°Can¡¯t be helped then,¡± Boris decided as he closed the book and shifted it upon the load of other books by his side. He placed them on the table carefully, brushing away the few fallen leaves. ¡°Then,¡± he looked down on Maina, ¡°what shall we play? Just so you know, I will not play hero today.¡± Boris was in no mood to play hero while the real heroes were out there playing real hero in real life. He did not like being left behind, just like Maina. ¡°Then what do you want to play?¡± in a rare moment, Maina provided Boris with a choice. ¡°How about hide-and-seek?¡± Boris asked after pondering for a while. No playing horse, no ear pulls, and he could restrict the area to the garden, making it fairly easy. The princess would get a chance to hide and dirty her clothes while he could stroll around leisurely to find her. The princess perked up her ears, readily accepting. ¡°But you can only hide in the garden and no peeking while you count,¡± Boris laid the ground rules. The game was afoot. As common courtesy Boris began to count loudly as the princess ran away, her swift steps creating a soft sound. He tried to trace the direction with his ear and the sound soon subsided, ruffled by the vegetation. Boris turned around after announcing, ¡°Ready or not, here I come.¡± He took heavy steps announcing his approach as he peered through the bushes and plants. The plants were pruned to low height and stood in curved rows, providing cover. Smaller herbs interspersed between them, filling spaces with fragrance. Some of them bore flowers, some didn¡¯t. Most of the royal gardens were arched or angular. Each end provided an entrance to a flowerbed paved in the middle. The pavement led inside as taller plants created rows. They curved along the pavement leading to open clearings where a table sat, surrounded by benches and chairs. A shade of Beruben tree stood over it. Fruit trees stood at the boundary with a wooden hedge in between. Boris peered closer to the ground, looking for traces of feet or ankles. He whistled lazily as he took his time, thinking the princess simple minded. His eyes scanned the surroundings taking clear note of any rustle. He found the shoes soon, hiding under a slightly dense thicket. ¡°I am nearby Maina,¡± he spoke in evil tones, ¡°I can see you shake, mwahaha,¡± his hands made grasping movements as he bent closer to the ground, ready to pounce upon the prey, ¡°get ready to be caught,¡± he pounced lightly upon the bush, trying to grasp the body hidden inside. His hands found only branches and leaves, and without any support, he found himself crash through the bush on the ground. Little twigs scratched at his clothes and dirt settled in his mouth. A pair of shoes lay close by, no feet inside them. Boris spat out dirt as he heard the mischievous giggle sound aloud. It came from above him. The princess sat high, nestled craftily among the branches. Sunlight created a halo around her spot, making it seem dark and unclear. ¡°Ahahaha! Stupid, stupid!¡± Maina laughed heartily seeing the look of surprise on Boris¡¯ face. She had already revealed her location by giggling away. ¡°You little!¡± Boris frowned at the princess. He was by no means stupid, even if he had made the stupid mistake of falling for a stupid trap. It was just chance. What adult would expect a little child to lay a trap like this? The princess seemed to be experienced in hide and seek. But as an adult with some dignity he could not take being called stupid out loud. He climbed up the tree, ready to shake the princess into discipline. A little pinch on the nose ought to have taken care of it. Without Violet or Elaine nearby, and the attendants still away in the distance he could easily do that. An evil grin came back to his face as he climbed the tree. He had hardly climbed enough when the princess realized his less than noble intentions. She curled back in surprise, giving Boris confidence. Halfway through the climb Boris was now revising plans for more evil. A small sinister giggle here and there escaped him. Then an even more sinister giggle descended. Boris looked up to find the princess bereft of any fear. Her eyes sparkled with the sunshine of mischief. ¡®Oh no,¡¯ Boris had barely thought when the princess jumped off, planting a firm foot on his head and using the pedestal to jump on the ground. As always, she was rather acrobatic for her age. The force of her jump angled Boris back; he lost his balance and fell down ridiculously. The grass caressed his fall, the ground cradled it and the tree swayed gently, aiding it. The fall was short and he did not feel the hurt, but the frustration increased. Boris got up and brushed the dirt off his clothes. ¡°No more hide and seek, now it is tag and hit!¡± he growled at Maina who ran away, crackling at his disheveled appearance. He removed a few twigs out of his hair before giving her chase. She ducked under branches and through narrow gaps, making it harder for him. Boris bent, tilted or crawled to get through them, never relenting on the pursuit. She ran through the clearing, giving him a clear path. He darted behind as she jumped on the table and across the books in a beautiful form, landing deftly across him. He circled the table and she turned into another path. Boris rushed blindly as he collided head on with something hard. ¡°Aargh!¡± he shouted, falling back down on the ground. Before him stood the obnoxious prince he had met earlier. Boris glowered at him in annoyance but the prince paid no heed. Boris looked at him with even greater annoyance and soon found Maina. Prince Flynn held him by her hand and she was extremely eager to break his grip and run away. ¡°What are you doing Maina?¡± He repeated the question he had asked a week ago, without any originality. This guy never learnt his lessons. Maina shrunk, trying to hide her face by covering it with her hand, ¡°Since Violet and Elaine are both gone, there was nobody to teach. I was allowed free time.¡± The princess was apparently under the tutelage of Violet and Elaine. Now Boris knew that she didn¡¯t spend the whole of her day playing around. He never questioned in the first place why the princess was so close to both of them, but the answer was a lot simpler. It also explained why he frequently encountered the princess whenever Violet was teaching him. While Boris was thinking these thoughts, the snobbish prince was glaring at Maina. Flynn bent at his waste in an intimidating manner and scolded her harshly, ¡°And is that how you choose to spend your free time? Dirtying your clothes and playing around with worthless people.¡± He glanced at Boris out of the corner of his eye, implying the ¡®worthless¡¯ one was Boris. Maina looked slightly afraid and uneasy, shuffling her toes while she rubbed one foot on another. Her head hung down in meek reluctance. Flynn eyed the entire length of her, frowning when he saw her feet. He continued his wordy reprimands, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you even forgot your manners? Where are your shoes? Why were you running around barefoot? Do you even know¡ª ¡°Whash it to you!¡± Boris was about to stop the prince when Maina shouted forcefully. Her face was mess now, causing Boris to flare up. Her eyes angry, her brows twisted in pain, her cheeks were slightly pale. The energy she had displayed a while ago was gone, replaced by anxiety and anger. She rebelled, ¡°Y-you are alwaysh like this brother! You only talk bad to me. You never ashk, you neffer speak, you alwaysh shout! Brother, I hate you!¡± Her voice quivered as her speech faltered. She tried to glare back with all her capacity. ¡°Don¡¯t talk to your brother like that!¡± Flynn raised a hand, ready to slap her. Boris caught it furiously, lunging at the prince with his weight. He raised his own fist trying to smack the prince. ¡°You!¡± the prince growled with disbelief at Boris. Boris smacked him one across his cheek with all the strength he could muster. The fist connected well, leaving a small bruise. ¡°Stop!!¡± Maina cried, tears in her eyes, ¡°Don¡¯t fight!¡± By this time the servants had all arrived in haste. They looked at the situation in shock. Some restrained Boris as the Prince got up, brushing his cheek with an arm. Boris did not resist, he had done his part. The servants cried in alarm, raising a call for a healer. The prince gritted in anger before coming face to face with Boris. ¡°Do you know what you have done?¡± he asked threateningly. ¡°Tried to beat some sense into an ungrateful brat,¡± Boris replied nonchalantly. The prince smiled arrogantly, ¡°I can have you crushed right here, you know.¡± ¡°And display your pathetic little self before your innocent sister? Sure, go ahead,¡± Boris was still simmering. If he was released, it was possible he would smack the prince yet again. He was quite thankful to the servants restraining him now. ¡°Hmm..?¡± the prince looked to the side, seeing his sister being soothed by the servants. He looked back at Boris in vexation, ¡°I accept your challenge to the duel.¡± Boris raised an eyebrow. ¡°In our nation, physical aggression against royalty is punishable by death. But when a warrior does it against another, it is then taken as a challenge for duel. As you are special case, I will take it you challenged me to a duel? Or was it just madness?¡± the prince explained. ¡°Sure, let us duel,¡± Boris spewed in his half-mad rage, ¡°as long as I get good reason to kick you up.¡± ¡°Then it is done. The servants here are witnesses, don¡¯t back down afterwards.¡± Flynn narrowed his eyes. ¡°You too, best prepare yourself to get whooped,¡± Boris cooled down slowly while trying to provoke Flynn. He also tried his best to think up aristocratic slanders, but nothing came to mind. ¡°A duel it is then,¡± Flynn tried to emphasize. His eyes were hostile but he looked slightly confused. He wanted to say something more, but missed on it. This was likely the first time he had been challenged and was thinking if he had indeed specified everything he needed to. ¡°Then- ¡°Then?¡± Flynn asked, wondering if something was missing still. ¡°When?¡± ¡°When what?¡± ¡°When do we fight? You are not going to say whenever you want right?¡± Boris asked preemptively. ¡°Hmph, no.¡± Flynn finally remembered he had forgotten to set the date, ¡°You decide. But I am only here for three days, if you set the date to later I will have to talk to mother.¡± Was the guy stupid? Shouldn¡¯t he have chosen the next day itself when given a choice? With lesser preparation Boris would be at an obvious disadvantage, but delaying it too long was not what he wanted either. ¡°Alright then, three days from now. Let me send you off with bang,¡± Boris smirked. ¡°Three days it is.¡± ¡°Stop right there.¡± A voice cut through the horde of servants. Boris knew that voice, the heaviness and slight huskiness it held. The servants parted as Grey, the old mage, came into sight. He looked at Boris, who was immediately released at his nod. Then he observed Flynn and the surrounding people. He shook his head in a sigh, ¡°What are you doing, this is not a place to fight.¡± He came closer and cast a healing spell on the prince. The wound faded with a small flash of light. He looked at Maina and rubbed her hair softly, ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± he consoled her. Then he ordered the servants to take Maina back as he asked both Boris and Flynn to accompany him to the table nearby. ¡°And?¡± he asked, his tone was soft but heavy. ¡°Why are two grownups brawling in the royal garden?¡± ¡°It was a challenge for a duel,¡± prince Flynn spoke with respect, the old mage was probably someone of high status. ¡°Is that true Boris?¡± Boris turned his head away in response. Grey shook his head, ¡°Do you know what a duel entails?¡± he asked. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± again, it was Flynn who spoke, ¡°we averred in the presence of witnesses, it cannot be changed now.¡± ¡°Young people sure are reckless,¡± Grey responded, ¡°Alright, if you say that much this old man will not interfere. But, it should be obvious you are not allowed to kill,¡± the last part he spoke with grave emphasis, ¡°Bloodshed will not be tolerated.¡± Boris flinched but Flynn only nodded. ¡°Then, I will take my leave grand meister Grey,¡± Flynn respectfully walked away, in a stark contrast his haughty self. Grey finally turned to face Boris, who was only now feeling the weight of his actions. He sat with his head low. Grey looked at Boris understandingly, his gaze wondered a little to his ruffled clothing. The dirt and dust on his tunic, the few twigs left behind in his hair, and the soiled face. ¡°Hahaha, are you a dirt magnet?¡± ¡®It¡¯s not funny,¡¯ Boris thought as he looked at the old mage. ¡°Yes it is,¡± the old mage replied to his thoughts, ¡°now, care to enlighten me over what happened.¡± Boris quietly gave a brief description of the event, trying to keep the prince¡¯s criticism to the minimum. Only half of what he said talked rudely of the prince, much to his credit. ¡°Hmm, I understand,¡± Grey scratched his beard wisely, ¡°I would like to say that you should not have intervened, but it cannot be helped now. You have already burst in. So, how do you intend to get out?¡± ¡°How?¡± Boris asked. ¡°You have just agreed to a duel. Don¡¯t tell me you expect to win it as you are? Despite how he looks, the prince has been trained well. Your friends might easily defeat him but you stand no chance in a direct battle. It would be difficult to come out with your bones intact.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Boris replied dismally, ¡°I cannot use magic, I cannot use weapons, the only thing I am trying to gain is knowledge. I don¡¯t think it can help me win.¡± ¡°Then work upon it, knowledge is a more powerful tool than you give it credit for, you know.¡± ¡°How so?¡± Boris asked bitterly, ¡°Do I win by threatening him with his embarrassing secrets?¡± ¡°Hoho, you certainly think in an interesting manner. But no, like I said don¡¯t underestimate knowledge. If you knew enough, you would know there are weapons you can use well enough.¡± ¡°I already know about the weapon of ages, no thanks to your granddaughter.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ I am talking about physical weapons. The ones you probably got your hands on were enchanted. If you take plain crafted weapons, they would be a bit easier to hold, with some discomfort. If you craft one yourself¡­ that would suit you best.¡± Boris had just been told an amazing bit of information, his ears perked up a little as he pondered. He weighed his options. ¡°I am not a weapon smith. I don¡¯t know a single thing about forging weapons and I have no time to learn it. In the off chance that I did, I still don¡¯t know how to use said weapons. I have never held a sword or a bow properly in my life. I have a better chance beating him with books and rocks than with a stick.¡± ¡°Then beat him with books and rocks,¡± Grey said. ¡°That¡¯s not possible!¡± Boris screamed, ¡°Why are you so interested in me winning anyway?¡± ¡°Nothing much,¡± Grey replied thoughtfully as he stroked his beard with his entire hand, ¡°At my age you begin to wonder about things. I want to see how someone with your constitution deals with situations, I want to see the potential that magic has stolen away.¡± He smiled at Boris. ¡°What do you even mean?¡± Boris looked in confusion at the old mage. ¡°I mean this,¡± Grey pointed at the pile of books stacked up in the corner. He pulled out a small bunch of parchment stuffed inside and ran a cursory glance through it, then peered interestingly back at Boris, ¡°This is not something most people can easily learn in a week. Dissecting spells takes months of practice and not few days inside the library.¡± Then he looked into the parchment with greater attention, ¡°And most people never consider trying to make sense of Pedantic spells,¡± he smacked the paper lightly before Boris. ¡°Interestingly enough young man, you have enough grasp of magic to compare to Sylvia.¡± Boris felt a slight satisfaction rise to the surface of his heart. His gloomy mindset started disappearing, giving way to brighter thoughts. ¡°Then, teach me a way to win,¡± he asked hopefully. ¡°I am afraid I cannot teach you that,¡± Grey replied to the frowning Boris, ¡°I can at most tell you things about magic, things you want to know, things you need to know. My life has been so deeply rooted in magic I don¡¯t know ways to function without it. That is what I expect out of you. If I already knew the answer, I would not be here asking you, would I?¡± Boris looked at the old mage with curiosity, and slight annoyance. These wise old types always had a way with their words. They seemed incredibly deep yet annoyingly abstruse at the same time. ¡°Then at least teach me what you can,¡± he told Grey slovenly. ¡°Then let me teach you about Pedantic spells, these complex higher spells you found indecipherable.¡± Grey pointed at the spells Boris had tried to understand by segmenting them differently. ¡°The spells you studied till now were all part of the assisted magic. The Pedantic spells, however, lie in the gray zone between assisted and unorthodox magic.¡± At some point, the whole point of duel had been lost and Boris sat listening intently to Grey. He pulled out a set of parchment and a penbrush to note down important matters. ¡°The classic Methodic spells all follow a set of rules called ordinal rules, I am sure Violet already taught you those. They form the basis of creating and dissecting all Methodic spells. Rules derived from ordinal rules are called derivations, often used in creating complex Methodic spells. From my understanding, you have a fair knowledge of them.¡± Boris continued nodding his head, prodding him to continue. ¡°Then where you are stuck is the area of cardinal rules. Our knowledge of arcane magic is still limited, but some extensive works alluded to rules that were barely understandable. Without proof or evidence to their validity, they were treated as empirical rules and have held true¡­¡± Grey delved into mage jargon and Boris followed him. The lesson continued into the evening. 6. Turtlebacks 6. Turtlebacks The settlement of Jinor is a largely peaceful settlement. Largely. Except for the farmers bickering over from exhaustive work, the professionals queasy from haggling traders, the housewives nagging from poor income and the children sully from the lack of excitement, the town remains a peaceful abode for most oxen, horses, sheep, other cattle and the elderly. It is not even clear whether it can be called a town. The area was blessed with fertile soil and rich crops, replenished by a slightly whimsical river Vineer. The setting up of a well maintained route to the capital lead to an urban trend around the adjacent parts. So while the northern part is more along solid houses and crowded buildings, the southern part leaves much open to nature. Even the people in the southern part are open to nature, so much that they answer nature¡¯s calls out in the open. The northern arrogants call them southern vulgars, but a fight rarely breaks out over more than a beautiful lady. Beautiful ladies are rare in Jinor, though there are plenty of decent ones. It must have something to do with the mundane lives that have turned even the people into mundane, removing beauty from grace. But mundane placidity is the charm of simple life. Not all change is good. Tensions had spiked in Jimor over the last couple of days. A part of palisading across the Sikri road had been broken, and the guards and woodcutters that entered the forest did not return. The troubled chief had sent for a scout to find them or report their whereabouts. The scout himself went missing. The residents felt concerned and approached the chief. The chief felt concerned and spoke to the local garrison. The local garrison shared the concern, but they already had received a note from the scout. They had contacted with the northern garrison and received orders to standby. Then the local garrison broke great news. The heroes were coming. The townsfolk had never seen heroes their entire life. They had only heard legends and tales. And now the legends were coming to their town. It was an occasion of great honor and excitement. Bizarre excitement is the thrill of simple life. Not all change is bad. True to their word, the heroes came to the town that evening. They rode upon the winds of demonic horses, their cloaks fluttering magnificently in the air. Half the town greeted their entrance by crowding up the entrance of town. They waved banners and shrieked in excitement. The village chief and his daughter welcomed them with grace. All the heroes were young, some extremely so. A little girl with mage robes was among them. Five taller ones stood by her side. The town gaped at the heroes in excitement, their first time seeing people who went to all the trouble of killing demons without a reward. A look of close scrutiny followed each member of the hero party. The heroes responded modestly, some of them were even too shy. They only loosened their cloaks further into the town street and finally stood at the town square. The town square lighted the newest decorations with flame pillars and glowburners. Banners and boards stood everywhere in jubilation. Night was burning with excitement. The new heroes stood before the forgotten statues of the old ones as the village chief gave a boring speech upon a wooden podium. People paid no attention. All eyes were focused on the heroes, their features now clear in the glowing fire. Loud raucous cheers emerged from the front row, waves passing through the crowd in their infective capacity. This was different from mere excitement. This was true bliss. Five of the six heroes were beautiful, a cute girl, a feisty girl, a cool beauty, an elegant lady and a beautiful woman. There was a female for every age group. It had been a long time since townspeople welcomed such a dense bounty of gorgeous maidens. The northern arrogants admired them with vigilant eyes, while the southern vulgars feasted with starving sights. Both groups shook hands in a beautiful display of camaraderie, the strife ended before it could begin. The last hero was a good-looking boy, and he could only evoke subdued squeals of blushing missies. A night of feast and celebration followed. People hollered and cursed, mostly cursing the male hero for having the fancy of all girls. Instead of getting a chance at the women in heroes¡¯ party, they were overwhelmed when their own girls tried to get at the boy. The women in the party clung closer to him, arousing envious stares. The merriment continued as bards and mistrels sang pennyworth of few songs, the town was poor after all. Drinks were passed around and roast potatoes went as delicacies. The heroes accepted humbly, partaking of their joy. They were soon escorted to the best inn by guards. People continued to scramble around into the night, cursing the boy hero for monopolizing four beauties. The next day would be one of poor productivity for Jinor. ¡­¡­ The sun dawned early the next morning on Jinor, even the tall mountains in the horizon could do little to keep it hidden. The night of revelry had left the town exhausted but the roosters blasted their way at the first hint of light, obviously angry that they had been left out of the fun. Ray stirred weakly in his bed. After a tiring journey yesterday, they had finally arrived to find the town all joy and glee, no traces of any trouble. A festival was put up for their reception and they meekly accepted it, it tired them all the more. He pulled the sheets over his head in order to get some sleep. Heroes needed rest. The door flung open with a bang! ¡°Get up! We need to go!¡± In seconds, Ray was up beside his bed, a sword in his hands as he flung the bed vertical as cover. It made another bang on the floor. The innkeeper would be mad. He peered from behind the bed to find Violet standing there. Tension left his grip as he softly put the sword back. ¡°What do you need?¡± he asked, mildly shaken. ¡°Get changed,¡± Violet told him, ¡°we need to be out before the town is up and running or we will hoarded together like an attraction. Did you forget yesterday?¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Ray nodded, remembering the last night with weariness. Violet closed the door softly leaving Ray to prepare. In a short while, they sat at the breakfast table. This one was a lot smaller than the castle¡¯s, with space barely enough to fit six people around it. The wood was light and softer, making it cheap to replace in case of mishaps. A breakfast of eggs and potatoes was served with hot milk. Potatoes seemed to be a hot favorite here. The innkeeper was a gentle old lady with good cooking skills. They met her courteously and apologized for the ruckus, she forgave them with a kind smile. Ray made sure to smile back positively in return, creating doubtful glances from Claire and Sylvia. ¡°Alright, look sharp here,¡± Diana called their attention to the table after they had finished breakfast. A rough map was placed on the table. ¡°We are here,¡± she inscribed a small circle on the side of a road, ¡°south of the Sikri road near the river Vineer, the one we saw yesterday. North of the road is the Laur forest, the place we need to enter, the southern part of the same forest you were training in. But it is more dangerous,¡± she cautioned, ¡°so before you enter get your bearings right. The mountain ranges, the Shadows of Sik, lie east of the Laur forest near the horizon. They are too tall to miss, so you can always notice them. The forest is north, the town is south and the river here flows from north to south. Remember that and you cannot get lost.¡± She looked across to each and everyone, explaining the map. The discussion delved deeper into the topography as she explained the grounds, the incline and possible problems. They got a brief understanding of the trees and animals nearby. Oaks and conifers dominated the spectrum. Wild animals were mostly harmless deer and bison, but boars and hounds would also be present. Wolves rarely made it this south but if ventured deeper, wolves and foxes would be common occurrence. Monsters included the ever-present slimes, the fang-rats, the screech wings, and the sourfill spiders. All were relatively prone to both magic and physical attacks. ¡°This is your first quest and while I will be guiding, I will provide no direct support,¡± Diana told the heroes, ¡°it is best if you get used to working in a team. Ray, act as the leader and vanguard. Sylvia, you will form the mage support to deal with hordes and mobs. Claire, you are the rearguard in fights, responsible for scouting otherwise. Pay special attention to surroundings and traps.¡± Diana divided the roles well. ¡°What is it?¡± Diana asked when Sylvia raised her hand. ¡°Isn¡¯t our party missing a healer?¡± Sylvia did not know proper healing yet, it was unorthodox magic and difficult to grasp. ¡°Oh, I forgot to tell you. Violet is the healer, she will be participating as well but try to rely on yourselves as much as you can.¡± All eyes turned to Violet who puffed her chest and slammed a fist upon it, ¡°Leave it to me,¡± she said with great pride. ¡°And what about Elaine?¡± Elaine was dressed much simpler, no trace of armor or weapons on her person. ¡°I will not be accompanying you,¡± Elaine replied, ¡°My part is to stay here and await your return.¡± The heroes prepared to leave, equipped with armor, weapons and necessary items. Ray wore leather armor, with overlying metal plates on vital parts. He abandoned full body metal armor in favor of mobility. A sword held on his thigh and a small circular shield on his back, with some daggers and pouches at his waist belt. Sylvia wore dark blue robes of a mage, with high collars and loose sleeves. A light yellow blouse and long skirt under it. She sported her usual staff in hand, and a small knapsack behind her. Her pony tail hung from under her pointed hat. Claire was wearing a hooded brown cloak over leather armor, with belts crisscrossed at her chest, one holding the quiver and the other a small knapsack. Her bow was slung over her shoulder, two dirks hidden under her cloak with an assortment of stilettos and other items at her waist. They moved through the town, carefully avoiding the inebriated gentry the lay at the corners and sides. The morning sunlight had yet to stroke the shaded faces of these snoring men. The guards escorted the heroes to the forest entrance, a small gate in the palisading with an iron frame and double grills. In the soft morning air, they entered discreetly. The scout went missing about two miles north from the gate, according to an estimate. That was their first stop. Following the creed of non-violence, mostly because Diana had warned it would be a mess if they created too much ruckus, the heroes arrived at the spot. It was evident from the surroundings that the scene had witnessed violence and bloodshed. The ground was naked and dented, grass scattered and trees tattered. Fragments of bark and broken twigs lay interspersed between fallen leaves. The trees were not naked but the density of foliage was lesser than what Claire had encountered during her training. It made navigation easy but also exposed them. They scanned the ground sweeping away the fallen leaves with wind. In places the ground was tarry black, a film of crusted blood mixed with dirt and drudge. Claire recognized it and Sylvia felt uneasy. The faint smell still lingered here and the air was wary and ominous. Claire found a severed finger, with exposed bone and flesh as she scanned the ground with her cocoon. Diana had called the magic ranging but Claire preferred calling it cocoon. She picked up the evidence of death, examining it. A small ring sat on the crushed joint, and the bone jutted out. From the insignia of eagle, this was definitely the scout¡¯s remains. Sylvia retched. Ray closed behind her and supported her back, patting it gently in reassurance. Violet cast a healing magic as she fed her some potions. Claire frowned, ¡°Sylvia, you need to get used to this. This is something bound to happen, so prepare yourself. If not, all of us will be in danger.¡± She tried to warn Sylvia earnestly, a weak heart would only spell trouble. Sylvia nodded desperately, ¡°I am trying, it is difficult for me.¡± Unlike Ray who took everything in stride and Claire who dealt with it proactively, Sylvia would usually need some composure to deal with unexpected events. Once she overcame it, she was better than the other two. Claire on the other hand found Sylvia unnatural. Claire herself was slightly shaken by gore but she fought off fear with confidence. She expected the same of others. It was good that Boris was not here, that coward would piss his pants at this. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. She searched for marks and trails while Sylvia recuperated. The scar marks and the destruction roughly pointed them east. She searched intently, her cocoon grasping at individual trees and segments of ground. This was her limitation, while ranging magic could amplify minute findings it was too taxing to extend far and wide. If she exerted all her capacity, the most she could do was about ten meters all around her spherically. She thinned her cocoon into an arm, scanning only fractions of surroundings to extend the range. It worked well though the keenness declined over large distances. This gave her a sweeping radar with a range well over thirty meters. The only other problem was anticipation; to detect something it was better to expect it beforehand. Otherwise sometimes looking for small discrepancies was like looking for a needle in a haystack. But Diana had trained her well, allowing her to detect anomalies in natural mana flow and follow them. She found the trail shortly, spiked claw prints etched into the ground were mostly turned east. She felt for hostile monsters but found none. Most were hidden away and not nearby. ¡°They ran east, a group of ten or so, clawed monsters, hostile.¡± She told Ray. Diana was watching from afar, out of their sight. Ray was to take decisions. ¡°Alright, we will mark the spot and follow the trail. If they are still nearby, eliminate them, if they are too far, evaluate the risks.¡± Claire scratched a prominent tree with a symbol she had been using since earlier, then left a scouting glyph there. The trail of magic would last over a week and could be reactivated later. Sylvia fired up a green flare, indicating their current position to the guards and that they would be moving east. The forest thickened eastwards, the trees got taller and the grass higher. The air felt cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze making its way into the forest. Claire led them through cautiously avoiding hostile monsters as and when possible. A few who poured in were easily dealt with. They happened across the river Vineer, its stream of water as pure as the Ciona brook, and cool to touch. They drank from it in a small break as they watched a small family of deer across the other shore. The animals ran off in fear. Claire lost the trail there, probably washed away by water or hindered by the gravel or masked by other animals. ¡°What now?¡± Ray asked, ¡°Do you think we can make out where those monsters may be.¡± ¡°I will need some time, we may need to camp if takes too much time,¡± Claire answered. ¡°Sylvia,¡± Ray asked, ¡°any suggestions?¡± ¡°Sylvia sat beside the river on a conjured mound of earth. She had regained composure and was thinking deeply. ¡°Violet,¡± she asked, ¡°if we cross the river will we encounter different monsters?¡± ¡°Yes, the territories change across the river though I don¡¯t know which specific monsters dwell east, they are usually more dangerous.¡± ¡°Then we go north,¡± Sylvia told Ray. ¡°Why?¡± he asked. ¡°These are pack monsters, and from their trail they mostly avoided the territories of other monsters. I somehow doubt they would cross over the river and create a war. Besides, it feels like they are bad with water. They did not go south or the guards would have spotted them, that only leaves north.¡± Ray smiled at Sylvia¡¯s suggestion, Claire felt envious and Violet admired her. ¡°Then we go north,¡± Ray concurred. Another scouting glyph and flare later, they found themselves following the river up north. A new trail was discovered not far away. The creatures had apparently waded by the river¡¯s shores for a length before crossing back onto dry land. Claire became alert as the trail turned sharper and fresh, keen on signs of danger. The others adopted her vigilance. She soon hid behind an oak tree, feeling the presence of a large monster. The air carried the same scent as it had at the scene of bloodshed. She bid the others to silence as she probed gently for others in the pack. She found another, and some more. They were close, and getting closer. A shiver ran down her. ¡°Ray!¡± she turned abruptly, ¡°they have found us!¡± she spoke in hushed tone. Ray darted across into the open, his shield lifted and his sword drawn. Sylvia and Violet took cover behind him and Claire occupied the rear. The air stirred, a hustle of scattering leaves was heard as Claire shouted loud, ¡°Here they come!¡± They came like the wind, swimming through the trees on an ocean of grass and fallen leaves. Fast and blurred was the first creature that pounced in, Ray took the entirety of impact upon his shield, raising a war cry. The impact was heavy, almost as heavy as Arthur¡¯s deft strikes but Ray repelled it, augmenting strength. A surge of power flowed into him as he smashed his shield hard, flinging the creature into the air. It landed a few meters apart, its eyes in feral anger, its tail rippling about. ¡°Turtlebacks!¡± Violet exclaimed. Ray glanced curiously at the creature. The only feature Turtlebacks shared with turtles was, well, turtle backs. They had the shell of a turtle, the form of a lizard, the height of a lion and the length of thrice as much. The speed was comparable to lizards and the ferocity comparable to lions. By no accounts was turtleback a fitting name. It should have been giant vicious hard shell lizards. Ray did not have a sense for names. ¡°Careful,¡± Sylvia said as she raised a wall of earth, blocking two more contenders who had swept in. Their whipping tails easily demolished the wall. Sylvia screamed in surprise. ¡°More!¡± Claire screamed as two more joined in on the assault. A total of four were ready to pounce in, the fifth one still lying in the distance. ¡°Huddle up!¡± Ray screamed as he activated shield barrier, engulfing all the four members. ¡°Sylvia, find weakness to attributes. Violet, mention special attacks and characteristics. Claire, distract and deter.¡± He shouted orders as the first Turtleback he had thrown away jumped back into the fray. Sylvia fired rapid shots of elemental magic as Ray strengthened the barrier, blocking physical attacks. Yin restraints sprouted from the grounds withholding two turtlebacks for a moment, as the magic attacks by Sylvia landed. Each attack was a different elemental attribute. ¡°Weak to wind, strong to earth, poor with water!¡± Sylvia shouted as she examined the effects. The turtleback at immediate front hissed, its bifid tongue slithered as it opened its mouth menacingly, spewing a foul, purple gas onto them. The barrier could not stop it. ¡°Poison!¡± Violet roared after remembering, ¡°claws and poison are deadly. Tail can be shed.¡± Sylvia hurriedly blew a gust of wind to dispel the poisonous gas. The little smell remaining in the air was obnoxious and unsettling. Claire fired arrows that lodged into the tails, barely penetrating the scales. Violet cast healing spells, eager to subdue any effects of poison. She did not have time to retrieve antidotes. The barrier was shrieking and thumping as claws gouged at it and tails lashed out. It would hold but the poison gas could easily cross, making it less effective. ¡°I am taking these out! Buy me time.¡± Sylvia spoke. Claire created more restraints of yin, they lasted a moment serving merely as distraction. The arrows were useless at short range, she drew her dirks. She leapt out of the barrier, under the imposing tail and darted behind of one. ¡°Claire!¡± Ray shouted as he prepared his own sword. The sword shimmied, enveloped by a layer of wind. Claire lunged at a Turtleback, avoiding another whip of his tail. Her dirk found its way into the eyeball as she landed. She thrust sharply, hoping to blind the creature, but the thrust slowed. The eyeball had small gash, blood flowing out of it. The creature screamed in rage, its vision obstructed by blood. Its eye was harder than Claire had expected, possibly hardened by magic. Ray swept in as Claire jumped back, finding support on a nearby trunk. He dispelled the barrier and roared to attract all attention. His voice was imbued with mana, creating the warrior¡¯s taunt. The turtlebacks responded immediately, shifting their focus to him. Ray parried a claw with his shield, sparks and screech resounded as the turtleback prepared another volley of poison gas. It was prevented. Ray was swift, his sword slashed in seven consecutive strokes of blur, each higher than the previous one. One of them scratched the claw, the next four wounded the leg as Ray climbed them like an incline, two more gashed at the narrow neck and he leapt into the air. The eighth strike was sonorous one, the wind sang menacingly as his sword executed a full overhead swipe, widening the gash in the neck into a deep wedge. Blood spurted out as Ray evaded, jumping back to the ground. The whole sequence took merely few seconds, leaving everyone but Sylvia aghast. Few seconds were enough for Sylvia and she raised her staff for the first time. ¡°Get back,¡± she warned the others as Ray retreated and Claire jumped back into their midst. The turtlebacks were eager to jump in too. The wind rose, flushing away the grass and leaves from the ground. It was sharp and sickled, whirling in a small anticyclone that blew out from their spot. They held their ground sternly while the wind stormed out, flecks of grass spraying out in its wake as it assaulted every turtleback outside. It gained velocity as Sylvia finished her spell. In moments, it was roaring and screeching, scattering away the monsters like pieces of paper. It sheared their skin and scraped their eyes, dug fiercer in and blew at their shells. The trees bent and cracked, thick oaken grandeur falling in horrified surrender. The scene turned chaotic. When it was over, a pitiful sight greeted them. The soil had eroded, the grass vanished, and piles of wreckage lay about for hundreds of meters. The creatures had toppled over onto their shells. None of their appendages were visible, not even the head could be seen. They had shed their scarred tails that were chopped up into pieces scattered about, and they whinnied in lizard tongue as they hid inside their shells. ¡°Sylvia, that was overkill,¡± Claire told her in daze. Another teetering oak creaked to its demise, falling slant on the ground. ¡°That was too much,¡± Violet agreed. ¡°I didn¡¯t know how strong they were, alright? I didn¡¯t hold back.¡± Sylvia retorted. ¡°Good work,¡± Ray encouraged Sylvia. ¡°Also Claire, are there anymore nearby?¡± ¡°You want to fight more?¡± ¡°Best to kill all nearby ones, so they don¡¯t cause a problem later.¡± Ray dug his sword in heavily, piercing the carapace and killing the monsters. A weak squeal left their shells as Sylvia turned her face away. Claire rested a bit before searching around. She found a few more north and they approached cautiously. The forest was now silent and afraid, the animals scuttled away from them even faster and the trees seemed to sway away from their path. ¡°What is that?¡± Ray asked as he noticed a mound. ¡°A turtleback nest,¡± Violet explained, ¡°They seem to be building a new one, perhaps their old nest collapsed. That would also explain why they roamed around. In search of a new home.¡± ¡°No time for pity,¡± Ray decided. Violet could barely object when he ordered an attack. What followed was mostly a massacre. The whole nest collapsed under Sylvia¡¯s spell as Ray and Claire hunted down every last monster to death. Wind magic was highly effective, making the battle extremely one sided. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to do that.¡± Violet told Ray in defiance. ¡°If I left them, they would kill the townspeople.¡± ¡°Once they build a nest, the turtlebacks never venture far from it. The killing near Jinor was an accident.¡± ¡°Are you blaming us for killing bloodthirsty monsters that would have killed us in return?¡± Claire asked in an angry tone. ¡°No, just practice some moderation,¡± Violet told her with a sigh. ¡°It¡¯s alright Violet, this much should be necessary to prevent another attack,¡± Sylvia justified. All said and done, they had accomplished their goal well. A look of satisfaction made their faces as they travelled back, following Claire. Diana followed them overhead, leaping through the treetops. She suddenly felt another gaze upon the heroes. It was faint and indistinct. Diana hid herself as she traced it back, it came from east but snooper could be traced no more. ¡®Well, I will deal with it later,¡¯ she decided as she followed the heroes back to Jinor. Some lessons and celebrations awaited the heroes. ¡­¡­.. 7. A Gift of wood 7. A Gift of wood Orin was a prosperous city. The streets were paved, the buildings were storeyed and the people were healthy. A good density of humans populated the streets. Some walked, some rode horses, some rode birds, and few went in carriages. Some ridiculous ones also rode giant lizards but Boris ignored them. It was not his concern if someone thought riding a creepy clawed reptile was fun. Grey informed him that the lizards were called turtlebacks. They were dangerous monsters that took much effort to be tamed. Boris almost chuckled at the name, he was glad to find that the people of Cumaria still had a sense of humor. Why else would somebody name a giant lizard as a turtleback, surely not just for a turtle shell? He was also glad to find that dangerous monsters could be tamed; he wanted a dragon as pet someday. He looked around at the streets bustling with people, gruff, burly people. Everybody was dressed in some level of armor and held a weapon at his person. A passerby gave him a scowl as he brushed against him, the ugly scar on his face contorting in intimidation. Boris offered a small apology as he tried to gauge him. Another warrior, with a long scimitar at his waist and a small dagger hidden under his belt. The man breathed a few curses and walked away. Grey led him along to the main marketplace, a large circle of shops that extended further into streets. A large stone pedestal stood in the center, the mannequin of a fully armored knight upon it. He was in the motion of drawing out his sword to slay something, a demon perhaps. Hawkers stood around it, shouting out their wares at ridiculous prices. There amulets and bracelets and trinkets, all enchanted to provide some edge in combat. Boris passed by, giving them a slightly curious look. ¡°Try it boy, there is no other like this in the world,¡± an enthusiastic hawker put forth a small brown bracelet just about his size. It was obviously iron, with a small premature glyph cast upon it. Boris put it on and felt small itch upon his arm as the bracelet shook. He returned it back promptly. ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡°Hey wait boy! I have others, a special amulet of Irilea for the chosen few.¡± But Boris was already gone, his eyes now attracted to the weapons displayed in the shop exhibits. There were hundreds of them. The whole market place was full of those. His eyes beamed, among so many there was definitely one he could hold, one that was not forged of magic or filled with enchantments. It proved futile. Boris stood in tenth weapon shop today. Not surprising since all the shops were related to either weapon or armor, it was like an arsenal rather than a market place. The small black dagger he held was stuttering along the table, making him frown. ¡°Don¡¯t you have something which is not completely metal?¡± he asked the shopkeeper while Grey browsed through their collection of staves and gems. ¡°That would be costly, young man. If you have the money though, I¡¯d be willing to show you a masterpiece of mine.¡± Grey came back and nodded at the shopkeeper, ¡°Let us see it.¡± It was beautiful dagger. The blade was straight and double-edged, adorned with an inlaid design at the spine. It glowed faintly red. The hilt was in two pieces separated by a sinuous curve. A half of ivory white marble and the other tar black metal. The marble part felt cool and comfortable to touch while the metal part felt undesirable. Boris frowned. Why did every bit of metal have to be forged of magic? And why did every weapon have to be made of it. ¡°Do you not have a hilt that does not have metal?¡± ¡°Why would you want that,¡± as the shopkeeper said so, he held out that very same dagger in the air. It glowed brighter along the vines now, giving a reddish sheen to the whole blade. ¡°Nothing conducts mana like metal. Even the aristocrats that want fancy pieces of enamel and gemstones need at least part of it metallic for real use.¡± And that was it. Boris was sure he would not get a weapon of his choice, and if he ordered it made¡­ no, he didn¡¯t have time for that. They said a week at least for orders. He scoured the other shops nonetheless, the throes of sweaty warriors proving it somewhat difficult for him. They were all he saw, mercenaries, soldiers, guards, and a few mages. An army outside of castle walls. They finally sat in an eatery attached to the inn. A window was the only outlet it provided to the outside world, the door being closed. It was large and slightly yellow, obviously a product of dirt and smoke rather than an artistic tinge. Glass windows were rare in the city, most windows being open or grilled with wood. Glass wasn¡¯t that costly, just difficult to maintain. Boris did not like the place much. The food was bland and the people gruff. He was a little curious but the waitresses weren¡¯t exactly a beauty either, not by his standards. ¡°Your standards are skewed,¡± Grey told the indifferent boy seated before him, as he enjoyed his tea. ¡°This whole city is weird.¡± Boris blamed the world. ¡°Why so?¡± Grey chuckled softly as he placed the cup back, allowing a waitress to refill it. ¡°Well, for a first, what is a city?¡± ¡°A large prosperous settlement blessed in trade, guarded by walls and recognized by the kingdom.¡± Grey provided what was obviously a bland definition according to Boris. ¡°Wrong!¡± Boris exclaimed, ¡°I knew you were weird. The city is how you call it, excitement! For someone who visits it for the first time it should full of wonders and surprises, and I don¡¯t mean giant crawling lizards. I mean the variety, the beauty, the attractions. People of different types, selling and buying different types of products. Children excited to go into sweet shops, mothers crowding upon discounted goods, travellers excited over new crafts and antiques. Fountains and gardens, and beauties sitting around them. That is a city!¡± ¡°As I thought, that is a highly childish and biased view,¡± Grey responded, ¡°but still, don¡¯t you see all the variety here?¡± ¡°Oh, I do, I do,¡± Boris spoke sarcastically, ¡°all your men are rough and burly, the few women I see are brusque and wild, and your children gearing up to be one of them. Everyone carries a weapon, is clad in defensive clothes and is haggling over more weapons or armor. All shops sell weapons, or armor, or accessories for fighting. Heck, the only other shops deal with potions or magecraft, again for fighting. The children¡¯s play is brawling, the men¡¯s way is brawling. The eateries are crowded with sweaty men and bland food. The capital city seems to be made of dumb brutes and mercenaries, their only talent in war. Is violence your daily deed?¡± Boris voiced his resentments fluently, his black eyes now frowning in disdain. He had been extremely excited in the morning when Grey had offered to take him on a tour of the city. After a whole night of racking his brains Boris could find no method to win the duel. He needed a breath of fresh air, and he jumped at the chance. He could finally visit the city too. Two weeks of being clogged in the castle were depressing him. They had only visited shops of weapons and armory. Boris had tried on a miscellany of weapons and much to his chagrin, found he was not comfortable with any. Grey also visited the smith, allowing Boris a glimpse into forging of weapons. It was hot, strenuous and most annoyingly, mana consuming. Boris gave up and asked to be taken somewhere different, only to find it much the same. The frustration drove him grumpy when he found the whole city filled with war nuts. He now showered out with his rants. The lengthy speech prompted Grey to sit back and relax. The old mage enjoyed his tea with a smile as he listened to wordy grudges. He was beginning to understand the boy a little. ¡°On the contrary, this should give you a good idea about our city. Less to say we are warriors and more to say we are mostly at war. A vast majority of the people here enlist as soldiers or mercenaries, driving their livelihood from fights. It may be subjugation of monsters, killing demons or small skirmishes with other nations. The city you talked about only exists in peaceful, placated times. We do have portions that are quieter and simpler, but they are not popular. The artisans are few and farmers usually own outlands, the eateries are good enough for sustenance. This is not a world of dreams, Boris.¡± Grey peered down intellectually through his half-moon spectacles, his grey beard shining in the light. Boris skipped over half of Grey¡¯s speech, only paying attention to what he liked, ¡°What, so you do have better places. I want to go there.¡± Grey shook his head in regret, he had best not have told Boris about other places. Boris was now adamant and Grey reluctantly agreed. The pair made their way out, through the crowded streets into sparser ones. The streets seemed to thin along with the crowd, becoming narrow worn out pavements with each step they took. The buildings on became closer and shorter, losing luster and shine even under bright sunlight. The walls were dirtier, the road dustier and city dry. People changed from robes to tunics, from leather to hemp, from embroidery to patchwork. The streets became shaded and the city shadier. ¡°Are we going to shanties?¡± Boris asked at the declining state of surroundings. ¡°No, we are going to meet an old friend.¡± ¡°Oh come on, I asked you to take me to better places. This is no time for nostalgia.¡± ¡°If by better places you meant artisans and antique shops, then yes, we are going there.¡± Boris could not help but imagine some shady establishments that sold junk objects as rare treasures. They came upon a crossing with a decrepit fountain; water flowed down in little streams down the cracks. The rock had grown moss and small puddles formed in nearby street. Boris stepped over the puddles, looking at the fountain with pity while Grey made a turn. The next street was better kept; clean but fractured. Shops sprung around them, they were smaller, simpler establishments. Makeshift counters held goods and dirty fabrics provided for roofs. The shopkeepers looked at them with hungry stares, hope and greed mixed within. They were indubitably poor in most senses. And often old. ¡°This was a famous crafts market once. After the last Infernal war, the people wanted change¡­¡± Grey began telling a tale as old as himself, probably older. His azure eyes gazed through time, ¡°The kingdom was sick of war and reeling under its aftermath. The people were in despair; many had lost their families and witnessed too much bloodshed. In a bid to escape the savage reality of war, they pursued artistic talents. Artisans emerged from the populace and patrons from nobility. The capital city was no different. My grandfather helped build this street during his last days. The Silver street is named after him.¡± Grey walked slowly, his eyes still glazed. The people around were giving them curious glances now. Boris had misgivings, but none of them showed any hostility. ¡°And,¡± Boris knew but he asked anyway, ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°What happened was another war. Sumaria split away, the kingdom received a shock and the people changed. The patrons lost much in the war and the artisans lost their livelihood¡­ Now the city has a policy to breed enough warriors to keep the nation safe, at the cost of other professions. Cumaria still has cities of high repute for such crafts, like the Bizon and the Nuva Clus. They have learnt to survive by forming and allying with guilds. There isn¡¯t much hope for Orin though. Our people have accepted war, and are learning to thrive upon it.¡± There was hint of sadness in his voice, a result of wisdom and experience possibly, and a soft longing for peace. ¡°Do you expect the heroes to end all your wars?¡± Boris asked. Grey smiled at him, ¡°Sadly no. No matter how talented they are, the heroes cannot put a stop to the war. They will in fact wage the largest of all wars, the next Infernal war to kill the demon lord. I doubt anybody can stop that.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you have any other solution?¡± The old mage smiled at this, ¡°Tell me Boris, in the world you come from, are there no more wars?¡± Boris wanted to answer yes, but he knew better. He turned his head down as he spoke, ¡°No¡­ but the place I come from is peaceful and we have progressed much. The wars are rare, and they take place far away from peaceful nations, and children live peacefully¡­¡± he tried to put his world in a better light. Grey laughed softly, ¡°That seems like a good world, and while I do not question your view I doubt that it is the complete truth. Those who speak from the shadows of peace often know little of the darkness of war.¡± His words held the weight that Boris found difficult to deny. He replied with silence as they ventured deeper through the street, strolling at a leisurely pace. Grey finally entered a shop. It was old but in better condition. The walls were solid stone and the counters were dark wood. A small board hung outside. ¡®Deryll Woodworks¡¯ the sign read in old, flaky paint and frayed carvings. Boris climbed up the steps to the shop to find a very old man with a bald head and gray beard. His face had more wrinkles than Grey and his eyes seemed to be losing their sheen. His hands were emaciated sticks of bones, his cheeks sunken and his neck a twig of pulsating skin. Boris did not expect this, apparently when Grey had said old friend he had actually meant a really old friend. The man looked older than even Grey as he bent forward, straining his eyes through round spectacles to look at Grey. ¡°Grey huh? The years have always been kind to you,¡± the shopkeeper said, ¡°What brings you here today?¡± ¡°Hello old friend, how are you doing?¡± ¡°I have no time for your frivolities you bloodless knave,¡± the old man grumbled, ¡°what do you need of me?¡± The vigor had not yet left the old shopkeeper it seemed, he scowled at Grey. ¡°Now, don¡¯t be like that Marvin. I try to visit as often as I can, don¡¯t I? The academy and the kingdom have both been keeping me busy.¡± ¡°Often my foot, last time you came was a year ago and you haven¡¯t brought in Violet ever since. At least send the little angel over sometimes, you disgrace.¡± Marvin seemed to have a soft spot for Violet. ¡°Oh, I do apologize about that,¡± Grey said, recounting his last visit, ¡°I will ask Violet to visit more often.¡± Marvin¡¯s eyes shined brilliantly at those words, burning away his old age. ¡°So, what do you need?¡± he was now congenial. ¡°I bring you a visitor. Marvin, this is Boris Debron, a guest of the kingdom. Boris, this is my friend Marvin Deryll, a very skilled woodworker.¡± It was only then that Marvin bent forward further to notice Boris standing behind Grey. His eyes seemed to probe Boris with a suspicious intent. ¡°Why bring a young lad here, a guest of kingdom no less? Just so you know, I am not taking any apprentices. This isn¡¯t the place for young bloods no more. Though I doubt you brought him for that.¡± ¡°I wanted to visit the craftsmen in the city, to see their works. I am sorry if I am intruding but I would love to see your creations.¡± Boris answered Marvin instead, walking forward until he stood eye to eye. The old shopkeeper chuckled, ¡°Have an interest in crafts, yes? Can¡¯t say I see young ones like you anymore. Pleasure to have you here Boris, you can look around all you want.¡± He motioned to the shelves behind him. They seemed old and creaky, but had been kept clean and orderly with due care. Boris browsed through the items, each of them carved immaculately. The attention to detail was evident in the carvings. He picked up a wooden dagger. Carved in a single piece and polished differently, the blade seemed to resemble black steel while the handle looked to have a base of wood and grip of leather. The creases and the texture of the grip evoked the resemblance to leather. The edge was sharp enough to make paper cuts and the handle was engraved with intricate ornamental designs. If not for the weight, nobody would suspect it was made of wood. ¡°What do you think?¡± Grey asked from behind him. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± Boris answered without a thought. Marvin smiled. ¡°I meant, how does it feel in your hand?¡± Boris gripped the dagger comfortably in his hand and twirled it around, feeling it. ¡°It¡¯s comfortable,¡± he turned to face the shopkeeper, ¡°do you make these without magic?¡± he asked. He felt no discomfort compared to the weapons he had held before. ¡°A good eye young one, yes, I don¡¯t use magic. I have always been poor with them tricks and conjurations, so I took to this trade. I work with my hands and tools, God knows those are enough for this damned job.¡± Boris felt a stroke of luck, he pondered some more before he asked, ¡°Does the wood have no mana either?¡± ¡°Some it used to have. Wood is different from metal, once removed from the tree the mana drains away with time. Aged wood has no mana, makes it easier to work with. Are you not good with magic?¡± Marvin asked as he explained his point. ¡°Ah,¡± Boris stuttered, he looked at Grey who nodded mildly at him, ¡°I cannot use magic,¡± he told Marvin with some hesitation, ¡°I am inept.¡± He had been warned to keep it secret but somehow he felt safe enough to confide in Marvin. The old shopkeeper¡¯s eyes widened, ¡°I see now,¡± he spoke in a somber tone, ¡°that is how it is eh?¡± he looked at Grey in an understanding manner. Boris on the other hand, was too busy thinking up possibilities. Wood would have to do for now. But that dagger was obviously no good. He needed something else. Something blunt, a staff perhaps. The weapon must be strong enough to meet metal and capable of dealing real damage. ¡°What is the strongest wood?¡± he asked curiously, ¡°Something able to resist steel and rock.¡± ¡°Are you talking about Devil¡¯s wood? The thing is dangerous boy, I would advise against it.¡± ¡°Do you have it?¡± ¡°Obviously not, what fool would keep it?¡± ¡°Then how do I get it?¡± ¡°Now listen here, you bonehead. The Devil¡¯s wood is odious. It grows of demon blood and corpses. Any forest that has it is burnt and eradicated. The mercenaries venture into demon lands to acquire it in their foolish greed, and often die in the process. Do you want to die that bad?¡± Boris frowned. He did not need myths and legends, he needed something real and tangible, something that would work well, and he needed it fast. ¡°Argh, forget it, what is the toughest wood I can get here? And how do I get it?¡± he asked Marvin. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°There is no wood can beat metal. Best you can do is hope to bear a few strikes, who are you fighting boy?¡± ¡°An obnoxious arrogant bullheaded brat, can you provide me with the toughest wood? Maybe make some weapons of it?¡± ¡°Hahaha,¡± Marvin laughed weakly, ¡°well, I have Tudwin oak, best you can get here. I can have you made some weapons but it will take time.¡± ¡°How long?¡± ¡°Depends on what you want made. If you want simple staff and spike, no engravings, then a day at best. More, if my worker is busy.¡± Boris gave some thought to it. He didn¡¯t have much time, but he couldn¡¯t just order a dozen weapons. He needed to find the best weapon for him. He had no experience in the matter. ¡°Can I get some time to think?¡± he asked, looking between Grey and Marvin. ¡°All the time you need lad. Grey, take the boy to eat some. Little Welda still has her place downside.¡± Boris tried to return the dagger but Marvin declined, ¡°Keep it,¡± he said, ¡°a token of good faith from an old man.¡± Boris thanked him politely as he left shop, following Grey outside. ¡°See, isn¡¯t he a good old fellow.¡± Grey remarked as they walked. ¡°A great fellow,¡± Boris concurred. They walked downside leaving the marketplace, a small network of alleys passed them by. The street curved a little as residences sprouted out. They were mostly old and small, some of them deserted and others badly kept. Boris twirled the dagger unconsciously in his hand as he walked, looking across the street to find any pedestrians. A small boy darted by him and he felt amiss. It took him a moment to realize that the dagger was missing. ¡°You!¡± he turned to chase the boy abruptly, prompting a look from Grey. The thief ran fast with Boris at his heels as he disappeared into an alleyway. Boris chased him hard, putting all his strength into a tackle that brought the kid down, crashing him against the walls. Boris lunged at him, pinning his legs and hands to the ground. The kid looked up in fear, making Boris flinch. The momentary distraction proved his downfall as a stone hit him square in the chest, making him gasp and fall backwards. The kid took this opportunity to kick him away as he scrambled to his feet. More stones came at Boris as the kid bolted, making for another alleyway in the shadows. Boris had his hands full with dodging stones, until one exploded right in his face, bringing up unpleasant memories. The dust flamed his lungs as he coughed, retreating for clear air. When the alleyway cleared, there was no sign of the culprits, or the dagger. ¡°Damn, they got me,¡± Boris muttered in regret as he rubbed his wounds. The kid had companions. There was small flash in the distance, lighting the dark alleyway into a tortuous maze. Boris glanced curiously into the now invisible depths. The two kids came out screaming hard, running back towards him as if death was chasing them. Their frightened eyes took no notice of him as they scampered about pitifully. A small bolt of lightning streaked past from a dark figure of a mage who followed. ¡°Noooo!¡± they screamed harder. The larger one pulled the smaller while holding hands. Boris readied himself to catch the culprits, and endeavor that proved worthless as both stopped dead in their tracks, restrained by yin threads. A small earthen mound grew around their feet, immobilizing them further. Grey walked past them to Boris, his staff now held back. ¡°I figured you needed help,¡± he said coolly. ¡°That I did,¡± Boris replied as he bent down to look at the culprits. One was boy and the other a girl. A ragtag patchwork of clothes hung on their bodies. Their hair was unkempt and their faces dirty. The dim lighting hid their features and concealed their scars, revealing little to scrutiny. They flinched and paled as Boris put a hand on their shoulders, staring at them with evil eyes. ¡°Do you kids understand what you have done?¡± he asked ominously. The girl shrunk while the boy tried to cover her, and feigned ignorance, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are talking about.¡± ¡°I am talking about this,¡± Boris pulled out a dagger carefully wrapped under the boy¡¯s clothes, lifting it up before him. ¡°What do have to say about stealing?¡± ¡°W-what are you saying? I found that by the roadside just now.¡± It was a pathetic excuse. ¡°Huh? You little brat, first you commit a crime in broad daylight and then you refuse to accept it. You need to be taught a lesson,¡± Boris took a threatening tone. ¡°Don¡¯t touch my brother!¡± the little girl shouted while still hiding behind the brother, ¡°He didn¡¯t do any wrong!¡± ¡°Oh? And how is stealing not wrong?¡± ¡°You are rich aren¡¯t you?¡± the little girl looked at Boris with subdued fear, ¡°What¡¯s it matter to you if you lose a stupid knife? We are just borrowing it anyway?¡± ¡°Borrowing it?¡± ¡°My brother is working hard, but we have no money to eat,¡± the little girl explained proudly, ¡°but very soon brother will make lots of money. Then we will return everything we borrowed back to the owners, and we will still have enough money to eat potatoes!¡± ¡°Mila, no,¡± the brother whispered in shame. ¡°Brother, tell this stupid person how you will soon get back more money and we will buy shoes and everything,¡± Mila spoke with confidence. ¡°I¡­ no...¡± the brother was left for words. ¡°Hoh, then Mila was it? Where do you keep those borrowed items?¡± Boris enquired. ¡°Hmph, why should I tell you? You will steal them from old man Coan¡¯s shop if you know,¡± the girl snubbed Boris as she snorted. ¡°Mila,¡± the brother spoke dejectedly, ¡°you just said it aloud.¡± Mila covered her mouth in shock as her eyes widened, ¡°Brother! What do I do? They know now!¡± she spoke in muffled voices from under her palm. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Boris reassured the girl as he passed a strong glare towards the brother to keep quiet, ¡°old man Coan keeps them hidden, nobody can steal it away.¡± ¡°Really! Yes! Now you can¡¯t steal them even if you know,¡± she booed at Boris. ¡°But then, do your parents know about this?¡± Boris asked her gently. ¡°No they don¡¯t!¡± the brother jerked violently, trying to lash out at Boris but Boris held him harder, threatening him with a firm grip. His eyes were turning red as emotions whirled inside of him. ¡°Let your sister speak,¡± Boris warned him, ¡°Mila, what about your parents?¡± The girl had mellowed a bit to Boris. He didn¡¯t harm her and talked in gentler tones. She felt uneasy but she answered him nonetheless, ¡°Mama and papa have gone far away, brother can¡¯t talk to them anymore. When they come back, I will tell them about brother¡¯s plan. They will be happy, they always smiled at brother,¡± she turned to face her brother, ¡°Brother, when will they come back?¡± there was burning hope and anticipation in the voice. Her brother¡¯s face fell hard, his body shivered as his eyes filled a little, ¡°Very soon Mila, I promise¡­ when I make that money,¡± he said in a voice now full and heavy. His face turned a bit away from her. ¡°Brother?¡± Mila asked with concern. ¡°Okay, that is that!¡± Boris announced loudly, ¡°Now time for lessons by Master Boris.¡± ¡°The first lesson, little kids, is that you don¡¯t borrow without permission,¡± Boris pinched their noses hard, the pain causing them to yell back in anger. ¡°The second lesson,¡± he pulled their ears, ¡°is that you don¡¯t talk rude to elders.¡± ¡°And the third lesson,¡± Boris added before they could retort, ¡°is never underestimate adults.¡± He punched both their heads, causing them to hold their heads in pain. ¡°Uu¡­ stop hitting me and brother!¡± Mila was whining as Boris walked to Grey. The siblings immediately shut up when they noticed him talk to the old mage. They seemed to have a fear of mages. Grey had been watching quietly without interrupting, he nodded approvingly when Boris faced him. ¡°Grey, what is the¡­ procedure to deal with such situation?¡± Boris asked frankly. ¡°You want the prison or the orphanage?¡± Grey asked Boris jokingly as he looked at the siblings. They clung to each other at his glance, sobbing under their hushed voices. ¡°Neither,¡± Boris replied, ¡°from the state of this city I would say all orphanages are army camps? Do you know an establishment that will help them without exploiting them?¡± ¡°I was joking. I cannot say you are wrong about the orphanages, though. As for your request, let me see¡­ I think I know at least one place that would love little children, they will have to do the chores though.¡± ¡°That will do,¡± Boris turned to the siblings, ¡°and now for your punishment.¡± ¡°Eh?¡± they replied in the same tone he had once used. A dark smile crept up his face as the siblings now paled. He pulled out the instrument of torture from his pocket, one that he had become used to carrying around. ¡­.. Boris stood before a little inn, ¡®Welda¡¯s Inn¡¯ the signboard read in iron letterings. Stone and wood of good quality were used. The building itself was in a good condition, the walls were clean and plastered, the windows were transparent and polished and the doorway was groomed to be welcoming. It looked homely rather than magnificent. Grey tapped lightly on the door, waiting for a response. It was an odd behavior to practice at an inn door. Behind Grey the siblings had their cheeks swollen, ready to burst out as they struggled to keep quiet. ¡°Pff-brother-pfff!¡± Mila was trying her best to reign in laughter. ¡°S-shut up pff-Mila, it-it¡¯s not pff-funny,¡± the brother Bon was trying to keep his face sullen unsuccessfully. They both looked at each other, their eyes almost watering with subdued laughter, their nerves tickling away at their stomachs. Boris had taken good care to make it so. He had first warned them to keep quiet no matter what happened then used the penbrush to sketch their faces into caricatures with his extensive knowledge. Then he had them face each other as they swore a solemn oath of silence. The first oath was broken on the point as they guffawed with all their might. Boris reprimanded them sharply, reminding them to keep quiet as they followed Grey. ¡°Yes,¡± a young boy greeted them as he opened the door, ¡°Welcome to Welda¡¯s Inn,¡± he said in a cute voice, ¡°please do come in.¡± Behind him the whole inn bustled with business, men and women sat at their tables, waiters and waitresses ran between them, their hands full with orders. The sweat and stink was minimal and the atmosphere seemed pleasant. An old lady behind the counter was shouting away orders while working her hands at filling plates and bowls with meals. She had the vitality of a beast in her actions. ¡°Ah hello, Welda,¡± Grey spoke in friendly voice as he stepped in, gesturing a hand towards the old lady. Little Welda? Boris should have known. It took a moment for little Welda to take notice of Grey and she responded instantly by greeting him with a rapidly flying bowl of porridge, Grey dodged and the siblings ducked while Boris received the gift on his head, his hair a mess with flowing porridge. Boris was beginning to revise his opinion of Grey, instead of a wise old mage he was probably a prickly old geezer with enemies everywhere. ¡°What do you want, you brazen trickster?¡± she kindly confronted Grey before her eyes fell on Boris and the siblings, ¡°you brought me clowns, again?¡± Boris grimaced. A small bout of eating and hours of discussion later, Welda had agreed to keep the siblings. Her inn was always in need of more workers. Needless to say that the hours of discussion had involved Grey getting chewed out by Welda while Boris and the siblings helped with the chores. Mila was reluctant but Bon had persuaded her well and she worked diligently at small tasks. With dusk encroaching, Boris left the inn with Grey leaving the siblings behind to their fate. He came to know that many of the inn¡¯s workers were children that Welda had once taken in and trained to full capacity. They were an obedient and cheerful lot, and looked healthy and well fed. Boris felt relief at leaving the siblings with the right person, Grey felt relief at finally being excused by Welda. They made their way back through the streets, each in their own relief. ¡°I almost forgot,¡± Grey asked as they approached Marvin¡¯s shop, ¡°did you get some ideas about the weapon you want?¡± ¡°Better yet,¡± Boris replied confidently, ¡°I know exactly what I want. Didn¡¯t you tell me already what weapon I needed?¡± ¡°Did I?¡± Grey asked, peering down from his azure eyes. ¡°Sure you did. Now I need just a few more things made, can you give me a hand with them?¡± ¡°As much as I can.¡± ¡°Then again, what did you say prince Flynn¡¯s favorite magic was?¡± ¡°He is very good with lightning. It has tremendous offence but drains mana quickly.¡± They made their way through lengthy shadows. Ideas were cropping all around Boris. His little scuffle earlier had sent an idea tripping and a chain of ideas had emerged. He needed to see how well they would do in practice. ¡­¡­¡­. The next day arrived with glad tidings. Grey informed him that his weapon would be delivered soon. Boris beamed. Marvin had already accepted his request, with much surprise at his choice. He had provided Marvin with a rough blueprint, though the weapon was simple to build. It was child¡¯s play according to Marvin. Boris had taken his leave and strolled around nearby shops, discussing little facts with Grey as he bought miscellaneous items. The assortment he had bought left Grey wondering what he was planning to do. Boris proudly replied that he would reveal it all in due time. He was all but done with his requirements the last day, the only thing remaining was for the weapon to arrive. While he waited, he needed assemble his arsenal into final shape. ¡°Can I get an empty room, I need some quiet place to work,¡± he asked Grey. Grey directed him to an empty storage by the side of the library. The room was large enough for Boris to work. A few shelves were littered about and large wooden desk sat on one side. The rest on the floor was empty, the walls were clean and naked and windows were small and high up, scattering sunlight in a circle around him. He set down the materials he had bought yesterday and worked at creating his arsenal. He emptied a large pouch on the desk, examining the heavy marbles and pellets. He arranged them in order, feeling their weight and form, juggling them lightly in the air. Once he was satisfied, he replaced them on the desk. Next he worked with quickmortar and sparkle sand, kneading them into moulds and setting them into shape. A few failed attempts gave way to the successful samples. A uniform coat of the mixture sat on every marble he had purchased. He worked briskly, his brows dripping with little droplets of sweat as he concentrated on the task at hand. By the time he was done with everything, the sunlight had shifted higher in the room, making it darker. Boris heaved a sigh of satisfaction at his finished work. He needed to wait for the weapon to practice, it had been some time since he had last used it. He also needed a test subject, someone willing to help him with his theories. There was a knock on the door. Boris shuffled up his belongings, walking excitedly towards the door. It had finally arrived. He gleefully opened the door, eager to get his hands upon the weapon. Surprise greeted him. His face paled as he tried to withdraw. Elaine walked in, a very picturesque terror emanating from her. ¡®Ah?¡¯ Boris realized, ¡®She never said when she would be back, did she?¡¯ In contrast to her previous demeanor, Elaine seemed pensive now. Her eyes looked at him through muddle of emotions. There was definitely anger, her brow was furrowed, her temple twitching. There was also reproach, a firm stare digging down Boris in responsibility, the black irises that seemed to drown him in blame. Then there was a little worry, her black eyes were flickered occasionally, widening in slight uncertainty as she gauged him, a thin crease upon her forehead. The last element was curiosity as she assessed the room from the corner of her eyes. She didn¡¯t say a word. Boris fell down with a thump, looking up in confusion. Fact dawned on him, that he had challenged the prince of Cumaria to a duel. In retrospect, he would have done the same again. The brat was obnoxious. Although Grey had just taken it in stride and even assisted him afterwards, Elaine did not seem to condone it. He looked up, trying to convey that the matter was beyond help now. Elaine looked down on him accusingly. ¡°I hope you understand what you have done,¡± another voice from behind spoke up. In his vexation Boris had failed to notice others enter the room. Violet held her head, ¡°Good grief, don¡¯t you ever learn?¡± Behind her were his friends, appearing confused with the situation. They looked starkly different from how they had been a week ago, confident and strong. Ray had become imposing, he looked taller than he was and radiated authority. Boris felt a semblance between him and Welmar. Claire felt dangerous, a bit like Diana, the elf woman. And Sylvia looked like a real mage, her robes casting her in a mysterious light. Boris contemplated his weaknesses as Violet scolded him on Elaine¡¯s behalf. He couldn¡¯t fathom what his friends had done over a week but they were definitely a lot stronger than before. This only propelled his desire to fight the duel, a chance to prove his own strength. He would show them. ¡°Are you listening?¡± Violet scolded, ¡°There is still time to call off the duel. Come with me and apologize to the prince. I understand that it might not have been your mistake but it cannot be helped. I cannot believe you were foolish enough to challenge royalty. You will lucky if you come out half alive, you know?¡± ¡°Let me fight,¡± Boris announced. Ray was now attentive as he tried to figure out the meaning of Violet¡¯s words. Sylvia had probably guessed and her face showed disbelief. Claire only understood that Boris had done something stupid, again. Boris did not care, ¡°I can fight,¡± he told Violet in defiance. ¡°You do realize that you cannot win?¡± Elaine told him in a cold tone. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Boris tried to smile, ¡°I have a plan.¡± ¡­.. 8. Breaking Bad 8. Breaking Bad Light smacked across Boris from eight directions, casting fragmented shadows around him. Each shadow was small fluctuant shade of gray. Penumbras that circled him in doubt. Boris refused to acknowledge them, turning his sight to scan the scanty audience. The prince wasn¡¯t here yet. Barely ten people sat to his right. Four of his friends sat doubtful and confused. Ray and Sylvia were both openly against this duel, while Claire was subtly disdainful. They watched with little hope, ready to burst in to save his sorry soul if it went too far. Ray sat straight and alert, scanning the grounds and looking for the opponent who had yet to arrive. Sylvia was more interested in Ray, but she did her part to keep an eye on Boris. Claire was snuggling to Ray, pretending to get a closer look on Boris. All right, maybe Ray was the only one actually concerned at all. Boris watched his position enviously. If the prince didn¡¯t arrive soon he made up his mind to challenge Ray instead. He needed an outlet for all that envy sometime. The summoning chambers had been turned into an arena, they were well suited to all such tasks. Eight tall columns held blazing blue orbs upon their helm. The orbs illuminated parts of columns, leaving the rest concealed in small pockets of darkness. It made the columns look like they were floating. The lighting was much brighter and practical, unlike the first day when it had looked theatrical. Boris could now see the arches end in an octagonal apex, engraved with patterns reminiscent of vines. A small triangular glyph was located in the center, similar to the one that had summoned them. Boris followed an arch down to a pillar that was half-embedded in the wall. The pier length was plastered in grey to match the walls and the floor. A single tortuous vine ran down it in red glamour, only to hide behind the seats for audience. Elaine sat farthest back, her figure glowing in the bright light. The black of her hair merged with the shadow behind her, flowing down infinitely. She looked at Boris in abandonment, her eyes narrowing in the light. Boris did not understand her. It was after a proper discussion that Boris had been allowed the right to fight. Violet had been angry, Elaine had been exasperated and his friends were all shocked. The knight Arthur had also come along, furious at learning the misdemeanor Boris had displayed towards a prince. He was ready to cut Boris in half, then and there, if not for the timely intervention of Grey. Boris had dealt with the commotion effectively, saying he didn¡¯t have time to deal with them while Grey calmed and reasoned with them. Violet followed the routine by washing him in water and heat blowing him dry, but Boris persevered. Elaine was the first to accept, she did not even once voice an objection, ¡°Do what you want,¡± she had told Boris in a soft voice. All her turbid emotions had faded away at his resolution. Boris was pleased to have her approval. He immediately responded, ¡°I will fight,¡± and Elaine took it with well, she just walked away without a word. ¡®Why does she feel so annoyed now? She never voiced any complaints yesterday.¡¯ Regardless, Boris turned his eyes to the guest of honor, the princess Maina. She sat in Elaine¡¯s lap, according her the height to see him clearly. Her eyes were doubtful and her face worried, Boris apologized mentally. He turned away to see the rest. Between the heroes on the first rung and Elaine at the back sat Violet with two other mages. She was tired, and possibly irritated. She stroked at her ginger hair and wrested with her staff. The events yesterday must have left her so. There was a sharp piercing glare coming from beside her where Arthur sat, his green eyes ready to burn a hole in Boris. Boris paid him no heed. The double doors creaked open, bringing in a much-needed draft of air to the insipid underground. Boris watched the prince emerge as the doors slowly parted. He had a long flowing robe of red that concealed his armor, leaving only his iron-studded boots to the view as he strutted down in practiced delay. Each step put a stiff slap on the stone staircase. His gait was a curiosity to Boris, it always felt like he was walking down an incline, looking down on everybody. Boris shrugged as he glanced at the entourage behind the prince. There was young man with large reddish ears and crooked nose. His head had been shaved and a pattern of black coursed down his neck. His height matched Welmar, his eyes vigilant. Probably a Scythian. The way he closely followed the prince, he looked like personal guard. It was the first time Boris had seen him, he wondered why he did not accompany the prince earlier. The king stood far behind him, his wavy hair wobbling in descent. Following the prince were familiar faces. The four counsels, their faces the same smarmy masks of servitude. Behind them, Grey looked down at him through a twinkle, his robe still gleaming with nocturnal charm in the bright light. He smiled encouragingly, the only support that Boris got since the morning. The dangerous elf woman was beside Grey. Her emerald eyes were filled with intrigue as they met Boris. Boris flinched at the predatory eyes. He quickly glanced back to the side to find Elaine slightly darker, a small pout forming on her lips. The prince reached the end of stairs and allowed the attendants to take down his robe. As Boris expected, prince Flynn had mostly worn light leather, a metal chest piece and guards at his joints being the exception. There was no helmet. He was either not strong enough to wear full body armor yet, or he regarded this match too easy, or both. It would prove his downfall. Flynn walked forward in confidence, giving him a haughty smile. Boris returned it with scorn and glare. He got up from his position across the prince and walked towards the center. He wore a leather half-jacket over a dark green shirt, his long sleeves ending in leather gloves. His muddy brown pants were worn over black leather shoes. Boris was dressed light, ready to run away. In a statement of style he pulled his left glove over his sleeve as he walked, then ruffled his hair lightly as he winked at the audience. Nobody gasped. Three long metallic poles were slung behind him, a wooden buckler on his back and several pouches at his waist. He gripped his weapon with his left hand, the slingshot hung in a harness at his right thigh. The prince snorted. Most others had reactions of mixed curiosity and disbelief. Even though he had practiced with it yesterday, people still found it difficult to believe that he would actually be using a sling. ¡°It¡¯s a toy!¡± Maina remarked from the back. It was not a toy. It was built of Tudwin oak and slime elastic, faster and better than any sling in the world. The slimes were a miracle if they could produce such material, it was tensile enough to launch a rock half his size if needed. Boris held the sling like a sword, ready to pull it out before him. He paid no heed to the few giggles. ¡°I was thinking what you would use,¡± prince Flynn spoke as he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, ¡°but to think you would use a toy. Thoughtless and useless. I guess an inept will always be inept, unable to grasp the art of war.¡± ¡°You never know,¡± Boris replied tersely. He now stood about twenty feet away from the prince, both near the center. His right hand was in a pouch at his waist, his left held the sling firmly. Everyone else but Grey had occupied their seats. Grey stood a fair distance away at the edge, the overseer for the duel. He announced, ¡°I am the overseer for the duel between His Highness the third prince of Cumaria, Flynn Dorham Salvem and Boris Debron, companion to the heroes. No one is to intrude unless I explicitly permit so,¡± then eyed Boris and Flynn, ¡°Both of you must contend unless one admits defeat or is unable to continue. Killing is not allowed under any circumstances. Area effect magic is prohibited upon areas beyond the ground. Leaving the arena amounts to surrender. Do you both understand this?¡± he uttered the rules loudly, his staff aloft in the air. Both of them nodded. There was no need for formalities; this duel was being held away from prying eyes after all. That was the reason for choosing the underground chamber. ¡°Then¡­¡± Grey paused. Boris tapped the ground lightly as he bent into a stance. It was hard rock. The prince himself bent forward, ready to bolt. A small line of flare erupted from Grey¡¯s staff as he said, ¡°Begin.¡± A projectile left Boris¡¯s sling as Flynn stepped in, and leapt straight at Flynn¡¯s face. Flynn grinned threateningly as he drew his enchanted sword in a flash and met the stone with an upward swipe. It was a fast, precise slash that slid through the stone, parting it in an enchanted glow. Flynn¡¯s smile disappeared as the stone exploded immediately, covering his face in a cloud of dust. It was sparkle sand, the one Violet had used during summoning. Sparkle sand reacted to any magic activation, bursting into a dazzle on contact. It was popular during festivals. The prince coughed in the abrasive cloud of dust. Two more stones flung in before he could see them, hitting his face in well-placed accuracy. Boris spared Flynn no rest as he attacked. He flipped one of the metal rods behind him simultaneously and it fell with a thud, standing straight on its stone base. The shaft was segmented and bent like a fishing rod, with small bristles on its surface. Flynn groaned as he flung forward, trying to escape the dust and catch up to Boris at the same time. His face bore scratches and wounds, his eyes visibly angry and red with dust. ¡°You!¡± a yell escaped his lips as he tried to close the distance, anger overpowering his senses. His sword was still held in defense. Boris retreated slowly, shooting stones and projectiles at the prince. One hurled at the shoulder was dodged, another at the face was dodged, the third hit the shin in practiced effort and the prince cringed a little as he glared. The glare earned him a head shot and he roared. It was irritating but the hits were painful. The stones were heavier than he expected. He was trying to avoid the stones in precaution, but the hits he received convinced him he could not dodge as he advanced. Flynn shifted and turned trying a curved pathway to Boris. Boris took note as he dropped a second metal rod behind him and turned to face the prince. His hand went into the pouch, retrieving the next set of arsenal. Flynn took the moment to fling a fireball, swiftest of elemental magic. Boris dodged the incoming fireball well. The practice with Violet was beginning to pay off. Boris reacted swiftly, his left wrist flicked the sling back a little and his right instantly loaded the next projectile while gripping the elastic. At least in slingshots, Boris was an expert. It behaved like a semi-automatic in his hands. The next shot hit Flynn¡¯s left hand, the one he was using to cast magic. Boris could not afford to give him time to utilize magic. Even as Flynn flicked his left hand in annoyance, he received another shot to the face. It burst like a balloon, spilling liquids over his cheek and brows. He screamed in irritation as the liquid grazed his left eye and cheek. It was Parlen sap, a material used in crimson dyes that also happened to be extremely itchy. Boris had experienced it firsthand in the crafts market. Flynn was now seething. The left side of his face bathed red and itched horrendously, yet he could not afford to scratch the itch. He had his hands full with dodging the volley of shots that targeted him regularly, impeding his speed and preventing him from casting spells. Even elemental magic was now difficult to use in his state of mind. ¡°You coward! Face me like a man!¡± he challenged Boris, flinging a lightning bolt at him. The bolt curved lightly and missed as Boris dodged. ¡®Not yet¡¯ Boris mused. The rod at his back was flickering and sparking lightly. ¡°Come and get me your haughtiness!¡± Boris taunted as he stepped back. He needed to maintain a proper distance. Too close and Flynn would get him, too far and his aim would wander. The prince was already avoiding some of his shots well, any more would prove a chance at retaliation. He would not give Flynn any chance to seize the flow. Flynn withdrew his sword and ran at Boris, casting wind elemental magic to repel the stones. They exploded again, creating clouds of sparkling dust that hindered his vision. Other stones still found purchase through the cloud and efficiently came at him. He could barely see Boris¡¯s feet as they retreated slowly behind the cloud, each with an accompanying volley of stones. ¡®Running away from me? That coward!¡¯ Flynn chased after Boris as the dust dissipated, choosing to ignore the pain and endure the stones as he concentrated on preparing his first spell. It took a huge toll on his mind, but it would be worth it. It would tear through the stones into Boris. It would blow him back to dust. His ambitions took a toll as the last pair of stones came at his feet. They whirled around with a piece of elastic between them, catching his feet as they wrapped around and brought him down in his momentum. His eyes widened as he tasted ground, and the spell dissipated before it could be launched. The prince lay in shame of the stone floor, a metal rod stood on each side in contempt. Maina watched in unease. Elaine had warned her not to interfere. ¡°It is a duel, a fight between men with their honor on the line,¡± she had told Maina. ¡°Why do they fight?¡± Maina had asked in worry, surely all fights were bad. ¡°Because men are stupid,¡± Elaine replied calmly, ¡°they don¡¯t know any other way.¡± Her tone had been harsher than normal so Maina had shied from more questions. As the duel progressed, Maina found herself edging closer and closer to the scene. She had leapt off Elaine¡¯s lap and climbed down rung upon rung to get a look. Elaine followed closely. Maina did not hate her brother but neither did she hate Boris. They were both important to her. Her brother was always harsh but he was the only sibling who visited her often, the older siblings rarely came and always said they were too busy. Boris paid attention to Maina even when he said he was busy, Maina liked that. Now they were both fighting to get hurt and Maina could not stop them. She had a faint understanding that it was the quarrel with her brother that somehow led to this and this worried her more. ¡°One of them has to lose,¡± Elaine had told her and then asked inadvertently, ¡°who do you want to lose?¡± Maina looked at her brother on the ground as she asked herself childishly, ¡®who should lose?¡¯ Flynn raised his head up from the ground to look at Boris, his stubborn eyes burned with anger and refused to admit defeat. Boris looked down upon him and smirked disdainfully. Boris was not pelting stones anymore, sure of victory. Flynn smiled under his breath. This was far from over. He weakly supported himself on his left arm as he extended his right. He imagined the most powerful form of lightning, capable of ripping stones and charring trees and it burst alive. The result was unexpected, instead of sprinting straight his lightning split apart. He gazed in wonder as the rods on either side feasted upon it in a million sparks. Boris watched as it emerged, the perfect moment. A smile of deep satisfaction crossed his lips as he shot a large ball of sparkle dust into the curtain of lightning before him. Three conditions were essential. First was lightning, Boris was sure Flynn would use it sometime. The second was distraction, the prince had to be distracted to not dodge the ball. The third was time, the lightning had to last long enough for the ball to explode within, since most lightning magic were instantaneous. The metal rods had served the last two requirements. They grounded the lightning and dazed the prince as he continued to produce more of it. The ball exploded with a terrifying blast of lighting. It screeched and screamed and howled as it expanded to burst. It drowned all noises and deafened the audience, it blinded them the same. It was what needed to happen, sparkle sand contained metal dust after all. Boris had only experimented on a small scale earlier, but he expected this as he dove to the ground in cover. The air bellowed against his face, crying in hot agony and abrasive force. And it was over, Flynn lay in the middle with his armor scorched and his hair singed. His face was in shock, his eyes disconcerted and his mouth half open. He looked at Boris in half-terror and half-disbelief. But it was not over, the injuries were tolerable. His armor was obviously enchanted for defense under such circumstances. Flynn stood up weakly, removing the restraints wrapped around his legs. He could not lose. Even if Boris was a monster, he could not lose. As the prince of Cumaria it was his duty to win no matter the enemy. He had underestimated Boris but he would not lose. A bout of strength put him to his feet. His face was already burning, his eyes painful and his breath chaotic. He struggled with his sword as Boris approached, wrestled to hold it straight but Boris struck it down. ¡°Your Haughtiness, have you heard of groin guards?¡± It was soft whisper. Flynn¡¯s eyes widened as intolerable pain flared from his groin. His words did not find the wind to escape and he collapsed back, this time on his spine. Boris pinned Flynn¡¯s hands as he mounted him. His face was a mask of rage as he smacked Flynn alert with a smack. ¡°Do you know what a sister is?¡± he talked in acrimonious tones. ¡°Do you understand the value of family, you little runt? It is not something that can be replaced. Cherish the bonds of blood, or you will loath yourself for it.¡± The prince only glared back in defiance. He struggled to get back up, his hands finding little purchase to do so. ¡°I will crush you,¡± threatened the prince. As long as he was willing to fight and able to move the duel would not end. ¡°Let me show you what a sister is?¡± Boris sighed as he pulled out a dagger in broad light. It was wooden, but for anyone who saw it, it would appear real. Marvin¡¯s gift was perfect. It was distinct threat to kill. A violation of rules. Yet before Grey could warn him, before anybody could react, a shrill voice tore through the air in alarming urgency, ¡°Nooooo!¡± screamed Maina at the top of her lungs. It jerked at everyone present suddenly. Maina intruded into the arena grounds without a care for rules. Boris threw the dagger away, dismounting from Flynn to sit beside him. ¡°See,¡± he told him, ¡°That is a sister.¡± Flynn narrowed his eyes as a stone flew over Boris. The pain in his groin was receding, giving him a chance to regain. ¡°Get away!¡± Maina cried vehemently as she approached closer. Her childish tone was overflowing with sorrow. Her eyes were watering incessantly. Her legs were trembling as she picked up another stone that Boris had flung away and threw it in the air, missing Boris. ¡°Evil eyes! Get away from brother! Get away! Get away!¡± she whimpered and scrambled. A flurry of stones followed, each getting closer as Maina approached at Boris. A few hit his shoulders innocently. Boris had earlier requested Grey not to intervene if Maina violated the rules, no matter what happened. Grey sighed now that he understood what Boris had meant. He shook his head at Elaine, stopping her in her tracks even as the rest were still in awe. Another stone hit Boris square. This time a small streak of blood flowed from his temple. He was not strong like the prince. His clothes hid no enchantments. ¡°Hey pathetic brother,¡± Boris picked up Flynn by the scruff of his collar, glaring into his eyes as he spoke, ¡°the princess wants to see her hero¡­ show her.¡± Flynn narrowly found Maina in the corner of his eyes. She was weeping and distraught, pelting stones at Boris. He did not think anymore. He took a deep breath, garnering every bit of his last strength into his fist. A small enchantment sat upon his gloves as he smacked Boris. A spell of wind exploded. Boris was flung a few feet over the ground, collapsing into the dirt. Just with one direct hit his bones hurt, his body shuddered and his breath lost itself to distress. He was weak, but it mattered not. He would be strong when it mattered. Boris gasped a heavy breath as he collapsed, fainting away. ¡°Brother!¡± Maina cried as she leapt into Flynn. He held her weakly by his right arm as he supported the rest of his weight on his left. Maina stuffed her tearful face into his chest as she cried, ¡°I am sorry! I am sorry! I am sorry ¨Csniff-brother!-sniff- I won¡¯t go with evil eyes! I will-sniff- listen to you, I am sorry!¡± her voice broke out in sobs as she shivered in his arms. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Maina¡­ ¡± Flynn brushed her head while supporting her back. He looked curiously into the distance at the collapsed Boris. Then he collapsed. The audience sat spellbound at the entire spectacle, struggling to make sense of it. No cheers rose, no cries exclaimed, no congratulations resounded. They sat glued and transfixed, witnesses to one of the unthinkable. The counsels sat with pale faces and wide eyes, muttering contrivances to each other. Arthur looked with a stern, confounded look. Violet stood shocked and dazed. Time stood still since the blast, creating questions and doubts. Elaine held her head in a conundrum, this was not what she had expected. She did warn him he could not win, she just didn¡¯t specify it. There was a bit of pride in his actions, an element of overwhelming surprise and a lot of ambiguous mystery. From the ominous look on the faces of counsels and the confusion spread about, things were bound to end poorly. She sighed. If only he had lain low, this wouldn¡¯t have happened. Diana did not share her concern. An eerie smile sat on her lips as her eyes devoured the scene, settling upon Boris. Weak, almost like an elven child. Witty, at least from how he had dealt with this. And sharp, from the way he fluently spoke Humarian. It was worth her interest. He was a not a puppet of the kingdom and they would have nightmares keeping him now. Humans were so distrustful; anything they couldn¡¯t comprehend was a threat. Her lips curved more. King Durham sat in a daze. He was hoping for his son to teach the inept a lesson. He had pegged the boy as an inept, but now Boris seemed to be something completely different. To twist the magic upon itself? Ominous, threatening, evil. ¡®By Thiracus! What have we summoned?¡¯ Grey declared the end of the duel aloud, breaking the audience out of their reveries. The duel was invalidated until further results. ¡­¡­¡­¡­. Boris had the dream again. It was that horrendous creature with many arms, or mouths, he could not tell. He stood before it fearlessly, drawing a glyph he had devised himself. Ray was slashing away at the creature, provoking his rage while Claire distracted it with her arrows. Restraints of yin grew out of the earth to fetter it, snapped at its strength and grew again as they were torn off. Sylvia was in charge of the restraints. Violet stood healing them with all her might as she covered Boris. Boris worked on the glyph in a trance, unmindful of the creature as he used his tools. They were strange tools, a compass the size of his arm and a huge wooden protractor. He engraved runes into the glyph with a probe, and poured concoctions into it. All the while the creature raged mercilessly, bellowing threats in the shivering air. A restraint tore as an arm got free, or was it a mouth? It approached Boris in imminent threat. Before it could harm Boris, the glyph was activated. Violet poured immense mana into it while chanting the runes and the magic tore through the creature, engulfing it in a dark prison of defeat and consuming it. Boris exclaimed jubilantly at the victory¡ª Boris felt the cold touch of water interrupt his dream, his throat was wet and his face damp. He opened his eyes slowly, frustrated that his dream had been interrupted. He tried to blink away in the sunlight that coursed through the room. ¡°Finally you get up.¡± Violet stood by her side. She looked more exhausted and prickly than earlier as she lectured, ¡°How many times do you plan to do these reckless actions? Do you even know how dangerous it is? It takes a lot of effort to heal you, you know. The way your body is, I would not be surprised if it collapsed me instead in trying to heal you.¡± She bantered even as her eyebrows relaxed, a little relief evident on her sweating face. Boris eyed the mature expression on her childish face, noticing the effort from her out-of-breath voice, and felt guilt. He got up promptly, sitting with little effort. ¡°I am sorry Violet, I did not want to trouble you¡­¡± he wanted to speak more but words stopped. He just tried to bow his head in apology. His eyes fell on the bed he lay, blankets covering him. ¡°Now you say sorry?! After you did all that! You made me the test subject yesterday you know, had me whirl all that magic for your fun. And what for? It was disaster, you blew the prince and fainted yourself, the princess bawled her eyes out, nothing ended well. What was your plan again?¡± Violet continued chiding him, relieving her stress. If it could calm her, Boris would gladly bear it. The archimage had done much for him and he was grateful from his heart for her help. Even now, he could feel no pain, his wounds had been healed and he felt refreshed. ¡°I apologize Violet, it was my fault. I am really grateful for all your help you know. I know I caused a mess but that was the only way I could think of. Forgive me will you? You can even punish me if you want, I gladly accept whatever you ask.¡± Sincerity was the only thing Boris could muster right now. And he mustered it well, his eyes wide open and resolute as he looked at Violet. He was not sure how people would take his duel afterwards, only that prince would at least know what he wanted to say. ¡°H-hmpff,¡± Violet puffed childishly at him, turning her head slightly as she stroked her orange hair in an attempt to hide her face. ¡°As- as long as you get it, it¡¯s alright. Don¡¯t do that again, I- I worry you know,¡± her voiced deflated like a balloon. If Boris could see her face, he would notice a slight blush on her cheeks. ¡°Thank you Violet. I like that part of you,¡± Boris tried to compliment the generosity of the girl. ¡°I-I get it alright. Geez, it¡¯s creepy when you start behaving like that,¡± she complained as she turned her face further, knocking him one on his head. Boris held his head as the dream resurfaced. It felt strange now, foreboding. He considered it, delved into it, asked of it. It was all wrong. He was acting on compulsions. He was trying to be part of something he was not. It was how Ray was behaving on his first day, eager to be a hero. What Boris was dreaming was to follow the same path. But did he actually want that? Had his subconscious had given form to that? ¡®No, what have they done to me?!¡¯ It was not his dream. It was his curse. He was not a shadow of the heroes. He was not a hero, and he never wanted to be. He crushed that lucid dream within his clenched fist. He needed to change, now. Here. Boris looked around to find the room vacant. ¡°Where are the others? What about the duel?¡± ¡°It was invalidated. They are discussing it right now.¡± Boris climbed down immediately, brushing away the blankets as he turned towards Violet. ¡°Take me there,¡± he requested, there were things he needed to say. It was only now that his head was becoming clear. Decisions were sprouting and obstacles were falling. ¡®I cannot stay here anymore,¡¯ Boris had decided. ¡°I just healed you and you want to go mess up again,¡± Violet scowled. ¡°Trust me Violet, this is important.¡± Violet sighed, shrugged her shoulders in reluctant agreement as she led him outside. ¡­¡­¡­¡­ ¡°I tell you, he is accursed! No mage can do that. An inept? Never!¡± Rorik was speaking in a grim tone, elaborating the mystery of the duel. ¡°He is not,¡± Ray tried to explain, ¡°Those were just tricks.¡± ¡°I agree with him, Your Majesty. The boy employed no dark magic that I could see,¡± Elaine supported his claim. ¡°But he made the magic go berserk,¡± King Durham replied in a daze, ¡°I have never even heard of a Pixar that could do that.¡± ¡°Because he didn¡¯t do that, he just used some scientific tricks to break it,¡± Ray tried to explain. He had been putting forward the same argument over and over. No one seemed to be accepting it. ¡°I understand that you want to say that the laws of your world were used. But our world is different, magic does not simply surrender to alien laws. If it did, thousands of civilizations would have collapsed.¡± Another counsel substantiated. Ray shook his head in annoyance. How could these people be so blind? ¡°A curse, I did warn you sire!¡± Rorik spoke perilously. ¡°Please, it is a mere misunderstanding on our part,¡± Elaine tried to reason. ¡°Where is grand meister Grey? Surely he can shed some light on the issue.¡± ¡°Flynn fell to exhaustion. Grand meister Grey is looking after him,¡± the king explained, ¡°I would rather not call him now.¡± Elaine held her head. It was getting worse by the moment. They would expel him, throw him out in their dirty prejudice. ¡°How do you explain everything till now then?¡± she asked finally, ¡°Someone who cannot even wield an ounce of magic suddenly twisted it all?¡± ¡°Ah, but see he did twist it,¡± Mirak said somberly. ¡®Sneaky knave!¡¯ Elaine cursed him internally, ¡®I shall see to you.¡¯ ¡°And it was very dangerous,¡± Arthur added fuel to the fire, ¡°I doubt His Highness Flynn would have survived if he used that twist again.¡± His voice was declamatory, simmering in darker tones. ¡°It was not a twist!¡± Elaine tried to deny. ¡°But you just said it was,¡± Kailer added. ¡®These scheming foxes! How long has this been in works,¡¯ Elaine was beginning to have darker thoughts. ¡°And it would explain the summoning,¡± Mirak added. ¡°The summoning?¡± the king asked in morbid surprise. ¡°Six times we failed, sire. Ominous, the number six, the Oracle of Thiracus has always warned us that it speaks for the devil. But for whom did we fail? Surely not archimage Violet, she is a prodigy beyond age, the granddaughter of a Warlock. Then whom? The fourth one, the devil¡¯s work¡­¡± Mirak fed him cleverly and the king digested it. It made a vague sense. And vague interpretations were effective. The king finally realized why the summoning had failed, why it was that four had come instead of three. ¡°I say we rid him,¡± a dark, haunted voice spoke. ¡°You will not kill him!¡± Ray roared, standing up in protest. ¡°Sit down Ray,¡± Arthur ordered sternly, ¡°Your companion made a cowardly attempt at the life of His Highness the prince Flynn, in the midst of an honorable duel before esteemed witnesses. What but death is justified then?¡± ¡°For God¡¯s sake! It was a wooden dagger, we examined it thoroughly,¡± Ray retorted. He was missing Sylvia¡¯s brains here. She could have countered these fools out their minds. But the king only ever allowed one representative, and they all agreed it would have to be him. ¡°And what makes you think he could not kill with that?¡± Mirak questioned him, ¡°He made the magic twist with a paltry stone. Surely he could kill with a wooden dagger.¡± Ray widened his eyes in anger, ¡°He did not!¡± ¡°Quiet,¡± the king ordered him. Ray sat back grumpily. ¡°I beg your pardon Your Majesty,¡± Elaine spoke in a voice now strained, ¡°but may I request your mercy in this regard. The boy never intended any harm, I can vouch for his innocence.¡± ¡°It does not change the fact that he is a threat, Lady Elaine,¡± the king replied, ¡°We cannot have him stay here anymore. Even shall I perchance pardon his life, I do not want him in this castle, or anywhere nearby.¡± ¡°But you promised¡ª ¡°He did not.¡± Ray had barely begun when the loud opening of doors interrupted him. Boris walked in straight, meeting each face in the room as eyes widened. The counsels shifted uncomfortably at his visage. Behind him, Violet walked pensively. He had heard everything, not that it mattered. He looked around the chamber, examining the room where he was first pronounced an inept. The sunlight could no longer hide those darker facets. He looked at the familiar occupants. The king sat at the helm, the counsels around him. Ray and Elaine sat opposite to each other and Arthur sat beside Elaine. He received a disapproving glare, as always. Diana sat at the other end, playing the silent spectator. Boris smiled rather eerily, his eyes drooping into an evil stare. His lips contorted briefly as he observed both Elaine and Ray. They were playing a lost war. ¡°For one, Ray, it was Welmar who promised it. You cannot hold the king to those words,¡± Boris spoke with a practiced ease towards the shocked Ray. He now realized what Elaine¡¯s words had meant. ¡°You do realize you cannot win?¡± It was a warning. That he should not try to win, yet he should not lose either. It was a paradox. He would lose whether he won or lost. ¡°For another,¡± Boris continued towards the silent faces in the room, ¡°what was promised was treatment on par with heroes. Not the right to reside in the castle. Not any conveniences either.¡± Boris was just splitting hairs, but he had no doubt the king would side with him. And in a kingdom, it was the king that mattered. ¡°You! What are you even saying? Do you know¡ª ¡°He speaks the truth,¡± the King pronounced in a heavy theatrical voice, cutting off Ray¡¯s disbelief. Boris smiled at the obvious reaction. Elaine eyed him with a fiery anger, her rage was provoked further and it had just found a new target. ¡°Boris,¡± Elaine spoke scathingly, ¡°you have no right to decide such matters.¡± ¡°As you say Miss Elaine, it is above my stature to comment on such matters and it also creates an ethical issue,¡± Boris accepted her scorn. He still shivered; her eyes could drown him away and consume him. Her mask of terror made him flinch. But something had sparked, changed him. He was prepared to ride that wave out. ¡°Which is why I say, it is you all who decide,¡± Boris spoke, trying to sink his words into the dreaded room. ¡°Have a fair vote, each one of you. Those that want me here and those that want me gone, it is the numbers that matter after all.¡± He never mentioned the option of a death penalty. Elaine narrowed her eyes at the obvious deception he had laid. Violet stood quietly behind him, shuffling her feet in unease. Both of them knew it, that it was a snare. ¡°That sounds fair,¡± Arthur accepted sordidly. His hair now seemed dark and sinister, his eyes filled with grime. But his lips smiled, twisted up in satisfaction. ¡°I agree, it is only fair that every person gets an opinion,¡± King Durham spoke with poorly concealed connivance, ¡°Then, those who want him gone, raise their hands.¡± Seven arms were raised aloft, Diana included. She received the priciest of glares with blithe insouciance. ¡°In the presence of sacred witnesses, by the authority of the King of Cumaria, I hereby pronounce Boris Debron expelled.¡± Elaine gritted her teeth quietly as she tried to voice an objection. But she had lost, Boris had pulled the axe on his own legs. She looked at him in abandonment. Now she had questions, and she wanted answers of him. But he shied away from her eyes. It irked her. Boris smiled faintly beneath his face. It was done. A huge load was off his shoulders. He could be what he wanted now, and he had cleverly avoided the death sentence. ¡°Do you understand what that means?¡± Ray asked him flatly. This guy was still concerned. ¡°It means that this is not my place Ray, I am not a hero and I do not intend to be. Let me be.¡± ¡°Let you be where? How do you intend to survive? Is this where you pull out a hidden stash? ¡®cause I am waiting.¡± ¡°About that,¡± Diana interrupted finally, her eyes twinkling with mild curiosity as she eyed Boris, ¡°Boris Debron, how would you like to visit Cylia?¡± Ray faltered, Violet frowned, Elaine glowered and Boris smiled, ear to ear. ¡°It would be an honor.¡± ¡°There,¡± Diana replied, ¡°problem solved.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°No!¡± ¡°Are you an idiot?¡± ¡°It¡¯s alright Ray, I am sure Sylvia and Claire would agree that I would bring you down,¡± Boris reassured. They would not actually, but they would highly appreciate a monopoly over Ray. ¡°Why do you care about that?¡± ¡°I do not. So you should not either. Let me live my life without your bounds.¡± Ray felt himself burst. A whole lot of anger that he had accumulated since the morning came flooding out, ¡°Get lost then! Run away to the ludicrous nation of pointy ears. What is this about exactly? What is your problem? Do you want to die that bad? See if I care when I see your corpse tomorrow! I will throw it vultures and hogs, and have the dogs split the remains. Goddammit! What the heck is wrong with this world! Goddammit!¡± The King and his counsels watched in trepidation as Ray erupted with the choicest of curses, a string of inane words that seemed more cryptic than arcane magic. Boris grimaced and Elaine held her head in dismay. It was a wreck. ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Diana dispersed the meeting as she assuaged Ray. Then she hushed Boris out, telling him to pack up everything he needed. The audience dispersed after the altercation, until only Elaine and Diana remained. Elaine gave Diana a harsh, accusatory glare, trying to drive a confession out of her. Diana did not budge, only bent softly to utter, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I am just borrowing your pup.¡± Elaine scowled, ¡°It does not matter to me what he does.¡± She narrowed her eyes at Diana before turning her face away, ¡°That said, I would be grateful if you could take care him. Teach him survival¡­ Don¡¯t let him die.¡± Her voice turned a little pale at the end, as if she half-expected an adverse fate. She put a hand on her hair, brushing it off her subtly pointed ears. Diana smiled curiously. It was an interesting expression to witness on Elaine. Surely, that boy was something interesting. She would love for her own boredom to be cured. ¡­¡­¡­¡­. Boris sat in the garden during the evening, feeling lonely. He had already received his parting gifts in due order. A slap on each cheek, courtesy of Sylvia and Claire. Rose red ears, courtesy of Elaine. And a stubbed toe, courtesy of the merciful Violet. Why were all the women so violent? He didn¡¯t even need a duel to lose to them. Boris abhorred these parting gifts, slowly rubbing a hand on his painful ear. There was a gift he missed though. He longed for the nosy brat to come and pull his hairs bald. But he knew she wouldn¡¯t. He flipped lazily through the pages of a book in reflex. The tome was titled, ¡®Peculiarities and interpretation of arcane magic systems¡¯ and if it had been any thicker, Boris could have used it as a seat. Its yellow pages had dulled with time and yet they bore no signs of use, crisp and clear. Perhaps nobody bothered with this monstrosity. Boris himself had only picked it on a whim. He wasn¡¯t much interested in the library. He had already grasped Cylian as much as he could. He had even learnt Suren pretty well. Any further improvement required native speakers, and the two he knew, he refrained from approaching. Even in magic, he had hit a bottleneck. Grey had taught him some Pedantic spells but understanding them well meant he needed to understand arcane magic, something really cryptic and abstruse, as he gained from the book. He wondered if Grey would give him some pointers. He wondered what the wizened mage would say about his decision. He would likely just take it in stride, like a lively old man. Boris shut the book close as he pulled a cap over his eyes, expecting a siesta to follow his leisure. The cap had been one of the purchases he had made at the market. He wanted to thank Grey for providing him with money and everything else. The old mage had been a great help, just like Violet. ¡°So you are still here?¡± a sharp voice called him out. He was surprised to find Diana before him. He was also curious. ¡°I do not mean to offend you, but why help me?¡± ¡°Because it looked interesting,¡± Diana replied without a smirk. ¡°It did?¡± ¡°Yes. Now for my question, why did you choose to throw away the duel?¡± ¡°Because it didn¡¯t matter. I achieved what I wanted, the results were irrelevant.¡± ¡°And what do you want now?¡± ¡°I want to change,¡± Boris peered at the graying sky above, trying to hold it within. ¡°You will,¡± Diana spoke in a tone neither demeaning nor complacent. She disappeared abruptly, leaving him with the scent of hope. ¡­¡­.¡­. 9. A Blessing undisguised 9. A Blessing undisguised Dawn was fumbling its way to the castle, the lofty mountains impeded the early light from finding its way. Boris thanked the darkness they ushered in. A long, overhanging cloak hid him, granting him refuge from any stares. He made his way towards the castle gate in the cold air, a small knapsack slung behind him. Diana walked beside him, alert as ever. She held a fulgur by its reins. On his part, Boris had firmly refused another fulgur, aware of their monstrous heritage. Not that he knew how to ride a horse anyway. He would be content to ride with Diana. As dangerous as she felt, it was unlikely that she would throw him away mid-course or kick him full force, and he very much doubted the fulgur would not do so if he was alone. He had heard enough stories to be concerned and the beast did nothing to assuage them. It was black with two sharp streaks of white upon the head, and deadly red eyes that gleamed beneath them. Its mane was the same shade of deep red and its shoulders strongly muscular. The sinews coursed along its limbs in an almost bestial beauty, sculpting them into a lithe body. The hoofs were colored red too. Boris could almost imagine a demon sitting on the horse, a Dullahan that smeared its mane red as it tore through victims. Brushing off a little trepidation Boris entered the passageway to the castle exit, a long stone passage under an arched roof that hung between two large bastions. He turned back to give one last look towards the castle, the two floating towers greeted his departure with a flimsy wave of air. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to say your farewells?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Boris replied simply. It would be awkward. He was never good with those. He pulled the hood further down his face and walked on. A pair of black eyes traced him from the discrete cover of a nearby bastion, never blinking. Boris bowed his head low, searching the ground and avoiding the faces. ¡°Ah,¡± he uttered as he collided with someone. He was about to apologize when his eyes fell on the person. One head taller than Boris and covered in an extremely suspicious cloak that completely hid him in the darkness. How did the guards let someone like this in? The castle security was abysmal, and at the gate too! Boris tried to peer into the suspicious hood and found a vague representation of two overshadowed faces on the same body. His mouth had barely opened in alarm when the stranger forced a hand over it, ¡°Shhh! Don¡¯t raise an alarm.¡± It was familiar voice. ¡®What is he doing here? And seriously, alarm? How much more alarming could he be?¡¯ Boris mused. Then he found the royal crest embroidered on his cloak, and realized why the guards left him alone. ¡°So you are leaving?¡± Prince Flynn asked in his tasteless voice. His face held no marks of injury anymore. A second face of Maina stood over him. She frowned, turning her face away in sullen displeasure. Boris felt a prick. He observed a stiff but polite nod in answer. There was no need for more bad blood. He saw Maina give him the tongue as he raised his head, his own eyes shuffled in and out of sight in reluctance. Her face seemed to hold anger but no hatred, Boris reassured himself. Boris wanted to leave, the conversation had stopped and Flynn was already out of words. He hesitated a little. ¡°I don¡¯t like you,¡± the prince finally spoke in an explicit tone. Not arrogant but annoyed. ¡°You are powerless, brash, conceited and annoying,¡± the prince opined, ¡°and a coward¡­.¡± he added. Boris began to burn up. His fists clenched, if for the last time he would smack the snob once more. He reined them in with much difficulty, trying not to cause a scene. Instead, Boris glared cynically at the prince who just stared back, hesitation evident on his face as he chewed some words. ¡°But Maina doesn¡¯t hate you,¡± the prince added in a subdued tone, ¡°and I would like to think that you are not as bad¡­¡± his words punctuated by wavering pauses, ¡°I forgive you Boris Debron. The next time we meet, I hope it will be under more favorable circumstances.¡± Boris took a moment to swallow his words. This was probably Flynn¡¯s poor attempt at reconciliation, as hesitant as he was. A little smile rose on his lips as he shook the prince¡¯s reluctant hand. ¡°I certainly hope so,¡± he replied firmly. Maina was still sullen at him but her eyes were not vengeful, a slight pout sat on her lips. The prince turned gruffly and took his leave. Maina continued giving him the tongue but Boris only smiled back, relieved. It did not seem like a bad beginning. Diana gleamed lightly behind Boris, watching the spectacle. Her interest was piqued. ¡°What?¡± Boris curled back at her eyes. ¡°Nothing.¡± Boris did not ask any further, just walked towards the gate with Diana. He was reserved in his interactions with her. She seemed to contain an ocean of wisdom littered with icebergs of peril. As an elf, it would not be surprising if she were older than Grey himself, but that age had yet to leave a mark on her skin. The castle gate was huge as ever, armed with double doors made of iron and hinged on steel. From a distance the doors would have looked marred and rusted but Boris now knew that the doors were ¡®marred¡¯ with dull red enchantments that gave them a rusty look. A circuitry of magic sat into them, intricate beyond comprehension in its design. Iron took enchantments better than steel and was thus used for the purpose. The hinges were renitent steel and resisted external magic vehemently. Grey had explained that this was the most effective design for defense. Boris had hoped for a weapon made of renitent steel but Grey had declined. For one, the metal held chaotic internal mana to repel magic and would be dangerous, for another, it was ridiculously rare and unaffordable. A camel¡¯s weight in gold for a handful of the metal? Preposterous! They passed the gate, overcoming a thousand wards that sat upon the frame by the virtue of a singular badge that hung at their bosoms. Boris felt the discomfort as he passed through, similar to the last time he had passed the gates with Grey. Diana gave a small nod and a few words to the guards, and they were soon outside. Unrestrained drafts of air were blowing in from the west, lapping against their faces in freedom. Diana hopped onto the fulgur and helped Boris up. ¡°Alright then,¡± Diana spoke, ¡°our first stop is the Laur forest.¡± ¡°Laur forest?¡± It was a significant detour to reach Cylia. ¡°You don¡¯t think I would bring an uninitiated human to my motherland, do you? I need to beat you into form first.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Boris replied, as long as they travelled on, he had no scruples. They trotted away upon the street towards east, having the wind hit their backs in support. The fulgur took a leisurely stroll, beating up a cloud of dust as it glided onwards, leaving the wind to shame. Boris clung to its neck for dear life, hugging it with all the strength his arms could muster. Diana sat comfortably behind him, holding the reins taut in her hands. The route towards Laur forest was a quiet one. They did not converse any. The buildings were fewer and vanished faster than Boris could examine them. A small outpost visible every now and then was the only indication of distance that Boris could manage. The route curved south, and the road turned earthen with grass that crept upon the sides in flagrant density. After a long time, or so it seemed to Boris, they finally came across the garrison outpost that guarded the forest entrance. His arms were sore with effort as he dismounted, suppressing the pain that coursed through his back and limbs. The saddle had been enchanted for comfort and stability but Boris had found both lacking severely. He turned an envious glance to Diana who looked as if she had just dismounted from a carriage. Another short trip later, they were finally where Diana had wanted them. It was the forest in all its glamour. Tall trees dotted the leaf-strewn ground and erupted upon the carpet of wild grass. Soil seemed rough and the grass resilient, unlike that of the royal gardens. Boris squashed all his dreams of peaceful days then and there. Diana set up a small makeshift camp with the help of Boris, alluding to their stay. ¡°Alright,¡± Diana spoke, ¡°here are the rules. I am the master and you are the pupil. I ask and you obey, you request and I may acquiesce. Do you see that?¡± Boris nodded. ¡°Good, you can call me Diana, or you can call me master, I don¡¯t mind. I will call you kid, boy, runt, pup, whatever I want.¡± Boris accepted with grim reluctance. ¡°What are you waiting for kid? Go hunt me a slime.¡± ¡°Where do I find them?¡± Boris asked in hope of some pointers as he rummaged through his knapsack and brought out his trusty sling and a pouch full of stone pellets, he would use them as long as they lasted him. Diana pointed him towards a direction as she scrutinized his weapon, ¡°Follow east into the forest and you will meet plenty of them, don¡¯t go too far and don¡¯t get lost. Are you sure you will be hunting them with a sling?¡± she asked at last. ¡°I have poor compatibility with metallic weapons, what with me being inept and all,¡± Boris explained as he crouched off east with the sling and the wooden knife he had brought along. He tried to sneak through the grass, holding the trees as cover for his hunt. The ancient methods of hunting were not to his liking but he He met the first group soon. As expected, they hovered near a small burrow, feeding upon the carcass of rats and the waste nearby. Slimes were scavengers, and awfully passive monsters. Boris examined their jelly green bodies as he crept nonchalantly. They slithered and morphed on the same spot, ignorant of his approach. He thought upon the slimes¡¯ features as he trod slowly but naturally through the grass. Every slime had a simple weakness, the core, as he had read. The scavengers he saw held their cores in broad daylight, parading them like eyes. It took a few minutes to get close. The slimes were alert but he feigned indifference as walked past and slowly approached them. They tried to converge, some crawled away, others merely observed. After another few minutes of harmless circling by Boris, the slimes returned to their work. He crept closer and closer, calming his breath and walking cautiously until his hands could almost brush against a slime. Then he shot in, plunged both his hands through the gooey body and removed the eyes, all in an instant. His heart beat loudly at the successful completion and he ran back, never turning to observe the melting body of the slime he had killed. Victory showed on his face as he eagerly made his way back, only to find Diana half way through. She wore a bland look as she stated, ¡°So you already knew their weakness? I had hoped you would at least deal a hit or two in frustration.¡± Boris did not understand what she wanted, ¡°Doesn¡¯t this count as success?¡± he asked curiously. ¡°It does, but it didn¡¯t fulfill its purpose,¡± Diana remarked. ¡°Which was?¡± ¡°To gauge you and your potential.¡± ¡°I proved it in the duel, didn¡¯t I? I am not particularly great but I think I can perform well enough,¡± Boris replied confidently. He did not know if Diana was appraising him but he should be decent enough to be taught. He really wanted to learn something useful and practical. ¡°Make no mistake about your strength, kid. I must accept that you have wit and presence of mind but had you dueled against any of your friends you would have inevitably lost before you launched the first shot.¡± ¡°I know that,¡± Boris replied inimically. ¡°Good. Now, follow south and hunt a rabbit.¡± Boris shrugged again and obeyed. He darted south in search of rabbits. His sling would be put to good use now. It was an hour later that he came back, or dashed back. He was running as fast as his legs could carry him, a few rabbits giving him chase. His clothes were torn and tattered at knees and ankles, his boots were scratched, and he had broken into sweat as he skirted between trees, taking a twisting path to prevent the rabbits getting a hold of him. Diana watched in amusement as he screamed, ¡°You did not tell me they were fang rabbits!¡± Oh sweet cure for boredom. The fang rabbits had only one curiosity that distinguished them from normal rabbits, fangs. As long as they were killed in a single shot they posed no trouble, but Boris had been unable to hit them even once. Every time he turned around, trying to aim at a rabbit, the rabbit left his vision before the stone left his sling. He had already emptied the pellets and had to scrounge for stones. He circled around Diana¡¯s spot in despair, the rabbits hounding his trail as he begged for help. Diana sat unconcerned, offering no help in return. He finally took to climbing a tree in desperation. His limbs could barely encircle the girth of the thick trunk that he grasped and he propelled himself in short, struggling movements even as he peered down on the rabbits. The hunter had turned into prey. Humiliating, was what he thought of the event but he had little choice against a bunch of swift, bloodthirsty critters. He pounded his head against the tree, an attempt to provoke a bright idea. None came. The rabbits assaulted him in aggressive leaps that threatened to reach his feet. He desperately wriggled up, pulling his feet out of reach. After a number of failed efforts, the fang rabbits gave up and returned, all except one that seemed to hold special hatred for him. Boris had mistakenly stepped on it once, crushing its tail in the process. It was moment of pure luck that this rabbit hit the trunk oddly, crashing its head and falling unconscious with the impact. Boris looked around cautiously and, once he was assured there were no others around, jumped down nimbly on the ground. He struck the unconscious rabbit hard with a stone, hard enough to render it unconscious if it wasn¡¯t already. He hesitated a little before grabbing it, and meticulously tied it up before bringing it back to Diana as a gift. Diana betrayed no hint of amusement on her face. It was one of the funnier hunts she had observed, and she had observed a lot of them. Nevertheless, this child really needed some attention. His methods were stone aged. ¡°Sit down child,¡± Diana ordered as she received the tied up rabbit, ¡°we need to talk.¡± Boris wiped the sweat from his brow and wiped his face with a cloth as he slumped down, using his knapsack as a cushion. ¡°Yes?¡± he spoke, apparently satisfied at having completed his task. ¡°First of all, though I recognize the effort you put in, that was a miserable display just now,¡± Diana told him candidly, ¡°Was that the best you could do?¡± ¡°Yes, I mean no but yes, I don¡¯t know how to hunt and I don¡¯t have a good weapon, like a bow,¡± Boris eyed Diana¡¯s sleek wooden bow as he answered. If he could use a wooden sling, he could use a wooden bow. Actually, he had wanted weapons with a wooden grip, but that would have to wait. ¡°The issue is not just with the weapon pup, you¡¯re slow, unfit and unprepared. Almost the opposite of heroes. Your movements are stiff, your reflexes are slow and you have barely learnt the use of your weapon, if I may call it that.¡± ¡°¡­.¡± Boris could only respond with a muffled silence, half agreeing and half mulling, ¡°then teach me,¡± he said after some deliberation, ¡°isn¡¯t that why you brought me here?¡± ¡°That I did, hmm¡­ alright get on the ground and spread your legs apart,¡± Diana ordered. ¡°Eh?¡± Boris felt a strange inappropriateness in those words. Diana gave him no time to ponder however. In moments he was on the ground, his legs stretched apart and his arms held in front. Diana sat before him, her feet on the inner aspect of his thighs and her hands on his elbows. ¡°Um, what are you doing?¡± Boris asked. This resembled the stretching exercises on earth. ¡°Getting rid of your inflexibility, how old were you again?¡± Diana asked as she placed a firm grip on his elbow. Boris felt a tinge of apprehension before he replied, ¡°Sixteen, why?¡± Any further words were lost in his mouth as he groaned. Diana pushed his legs with unbelievable strength while she pulled on his shoulders through his elbows. It was torture. He felt his muscles heave and his tendons strain while she pushed and pulled harder, employing what he thought were magic spells in the process. Each time she activated a spell Boris felt a twinge, a strong urge to withdraw and for all he could, it made things worse. ¡°What- are- you- doing?¡± Boris asked in painful, interrupted words. Diana did not reply, only put more force in, slightly puzzled by the effects. Boris screamed now, it felt like the tendons would rip and his shoulders would come undone. ¡°Stop! It will break!¡± he cried at the peak of his voice. Diana stopped finally, loosening the grip as Boris collapsed back, his face in agony and his limbs aching. He was winced in pain every time his limbs twitched. She glanced at Boris curiously, ¡°Strange, your body has very poor compatibility with magic.¡± ¡°Tell me about it,¡± Boris spoke sarcastically. ¡°I see,¡± Diana told him thoughtfully, ¡°this is why you cannot use forged weapons. It is a surprise your body holds itself together like this, you virtually feel like a dried up corpse.¡± She brooded while Boris rested on his back, the pain now slowly receding with gasps of breath. The method was supposed to be painless. Magic dulled the pain and slowly improved the flexibility of muscles and tendons. The elves used it to compensate for poor innate strength and grew taller and agile, but it clearly did not work on Boris. It was a little surprising as Diana contemplated what incompatibility with magic meant. It aroused speculations. She needed to see how far it went. ¡°No choice then,¡± Diana finally decided, ¡°Boris Debron,¡± a piercing look entered her eyes, ¡°we will do it a different way.¡± ¡°Please, no more magical stretching,¡± Boris pleaded as he got up with difficulty. ¡°I agree, let¡¯s try a more direct method,¡± Diana conceded simply, a hint of intrigue in her eyes. ¡°Oh, that sounds¡­ good?¡± Boris instantly regretted those words. He was suddenly flung into the air, legs flailing around as he hovered before Diana. ¡°Be honored child,¡± she now spoke in a solemn foreign voice as she stretched her hand, her palm fell open upon his chest. Her eyes glowed and the air stirred, restraining Boris. ¡°And grit your teeth,¡± she cautioned strangely. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°@#^***_-@#~!#^^&*(),¡± a string of incoherent utterances emerged as Boris felt fear and awe. It was mind numbing, his skin shivered and broke out in sweat as the air started to glow in flakes of brilliance. His vision turned spotty, until finally it was all white. All he could feel was the pervasive touch of her palm on his chest as she continued to chant them. The inexplicable words imbued with insane magic, a force that threatened to rush in and tear him apart if unfettered. It pulsed against his chest and Boris closed his eyes in apprehension, only making the words clearer. He tried to speak but the voice lost itself in his throat, he tried to move but his hands disobeyed him, he floated helplessly as he waited. And the first words that made sense fell onto his ears. ¡°Be blessed thrice, a boon of fire, a gift of ice, and lightning trice,¡± Diana spoke in Cylian, the accent sovereign in capacity, ¡°Once #$^&&*(@!¡± An overwhelming force hit Boris, blasting through his chest into his body. His heart throbbed heavily as he coughed, but no voice left his throat. The heat coursed all the way through his ears, Boris felt steam erupt through them. His eyes screamed shut against the pain. His skin melted. ¡°Twice (*^^$%#@@&!¡± A second wave exploded, coursing like a tsunami that turned his mind upside down. A jolt of electricity that disoriented him. He lost sense of time and place, his head throbbed and his breath wailed. His ears rang inaudibly and his heart cringed. He coughed again, only much weaker. ¡°Thrice %-=#@@(*)-!¡± the voice continued without mercy. That would be it, Boris was not sure he could bear any longer. The third wave was piercingly cold. It spread like a storm, chilling him right to the bone. Every fiber of his being shuddered, withdrew at the force that plunged in nonetheless. It drained him and overwhelmed him, plundering through his resistance without pity. He felt the eerie touch of death, felt it caress him like a child. ¡®Ah, I knew she was dangerous,¡¯ Boris reflected in the last moments. He could no longer hear Diana, or feel anything. He felt paralyzed and senseless; a dreary calm overcame his senses. He felt apathetic, alienated from his own self. It was the last leg of despair, a state of cold abandonment. And then he fell. It hurt, or it should have but it didn¡¯t matter. Darkness descended. Boris just spread his arms and accepted it. ¡­¡­.. King Durham peered from a high station in High Commander¡¯s chambers, looking at the arena down below. It was meant for training soldiers who were currently gathered all around it. Swords were clashing violently on the ground, threatening to rip each other apart. Ray Edson was fighting indignantly against the Knight Guardian, each slash of his sword resounding with intent to kill. He was angry and disconcerted, looking for an avenue to spill his frustration. The spar session served it well, for now. Durham would have to look for other avenues soon. He redirected his eyes towards the High Commander Dunbar. A clutter of letters was laid out on the table. Two lavish chairs sat on each side, polished seamlessly and dressed in soft dirven fur. ¡°What news does Welmar send?¡± Durham asked. ¡°Good news my king, the fortresses are furnished well and morale is high. The Orcs have yet to launch a large attack and are losing the skirmishes. No greater demons have been witnessed. The front is secure.¡± The king nodded, urging him to continue. ¡°The lack of soldiers has been redressed and our army contingents have become a more capable force. I would think this is a good time to launch our campaign into Gelacien, before Sturmhelm outdoes us. We even have the heroes on our side.¡± ¡°And that explains why you never climbed the ranks like Welmar,¡± the king chided the bald headed Dunbar. He turned his glance down once more towards the fight. Heavy metallic steps had torn the ground and the swords were still flurrying through the air, each clash sending tremors that reached his ears. He frowned a little. ¡°Do you not see the picture?¡± he asked the silent Dubar, ¡°If we launch a campaign now we lose more than we gain. Weakened by the clash with demons and finished by our rivals. I would not put it beyond Sumaria or Sturmhelm to betray us.¡± ¡°But the heroes¡ª ¡°The heroes are a symbol and a trump card, Dunbar. Not to be wasted, but utilized. We will not go to war, not unless the threat of demons intensifies. Let every nation know the fear of Demon Lord before we march in to defend them. And we will fight along with Sturmhelm, involve them in our just cause so they may not have the chance to backstab us. Let their army weaken with ours, and die together if needed¡­¡± he paused in thought, ¡°As long as we have the heroes here, no nation will dare attack us before the war. Besides,¡± he added finally, ¡°we have had no signs of the Demon Lord¡¯s awakening. It is only prudent to wait.¡± ¡°It is as you say sire,¡± Dunbar accepted. ¡°I do have another work for you Dunbar,¡± the king spoke while peering back down. The fight had ended. The soldiers cheered while both combatants lay exhausted on the ground. Ray had lost, apparently, from the way he was seething even more and had hurled his headgear away violently. ¡°What might that be?¡± ¡°Get me a list of requests from both the Thiracian and the Irilean Mercenary Guilds. Our heroes need to go on an expedition to cool their heads off.¡± ¡­¡­.. ¡°How do you feel?¡± Diana sat beside Boris, the camp erected nearby. Fire crackled loudly upon his ears, sending warm flecks of light on his cheek. ¡°Like I am back from the dead,¡± Boris replied while looking up at the sky. The sun had nearly completed its journey, ready to descend into the west. The sky was still clear, autumn skies in Cumaria seemed often bereft of clouds, something Boris had wondered lately. ¡°What exactly did you do to me?¡± He asked warily, his body felt drained and free, his senses tingled with a fatigued vigor. He felt different, good and worse. ¡°A blessing of growth,¡± Diana answered succinctly, ¡°all elves receive it at the age of thirteen, so they may grow to the most of their potential.¡± ¡°So it was like releasing my latent potential? I felt like dying instead.¡± ¡°It is an unnerving experience. The blessing stretches your faculties to the limit and so it is often perceived as oppressive. It is nothing fatal though,¡± Diana reassured. ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± ¡°Trust me. I confess I have never used it on someone other than an elf but it could never be that harmful, probably, hopefully¡­¡± ¡°You had better not mentioned those last few words,¡± Boris replied wryly, ¡°Either way, this seems like confidential magic, are you fine about using it on someone like me?¡± He had begun to warm up towards Diana, strange how near death experiences could change one¡¯s attitude. Diana had terrifying skill, he had learnt firsthand and if she did have any antipathy towards him, he would not be alive. He concluded that she meant well and proceeded to offer his own concerns about her. ¡°You worry about your problems little pup, I can worry about mine,¡± Diana replied in a subtle grin. She was not concerned. He was an alien creature after all, so he had the benefit of doubt. And while the laws forbade her from blessing other races, they never spoke about someone summoned. Besides, his companions possessed something a lot more potent than the blessing of growth, allowing them to bypass a month of training in a week. It would not be that unnatural if he started to improve too. She was curious how long the blessing would last, and what it would bring about. Most elves continued to have the blessing till they reached near fifty and even when it dispersed, the effects were permanent. Boris arched an eyebrow. He didn¡¯t understand why Diana called him a pup. But he didn¡¯t dare ask yet. He instead turned his attention to the magic he had experienced. ¡°A blessing of fire, ice and lightning huh? I wonder how exactly that works¡­¡± he talked to himself in a soft contemplating tone. ¡°You understood that?¡± Diana¡¯s eyes concealed surprise well, but her voice leaked it out. ¡°Only a few words, those were Cylian,¡± Boris turned his head a little to face Diana, his body was still too exhausted to move, ¡°I learnt a bit of Cylian, all that I could in fact.¡± ¡°I see now. It is no wonder the Lioness takes an interest in you,¡± Diana nodded her head slightly in insight. The words were Old Cylian and embedded in an arcane spell chant, it was nigh impossible to understand them. ¡®The lioness?¡¯ Boris could not help but think it was connected to calling him a pup. The only image Boris could form of ¡®the lioness¡¯ overlapped with Diana herself. Her golden hair flowing like a majestic mane, her eyes a feral green, her face a predatory mask of threat. Diana smirked as Boris created that image in his mind, overlaying it on her face. Boris shrunk his face with effort at her smirk, trying to draw back. He could not withdraw his eyes however. Diana commanded a different kind of charm compared to Elaine. Elaine seemed to have eyes that could suck you in, magnetic, irrefutable. Diana in contrast, had eyes you would not dare miss, afraid you would die if you looked elsewhere for a moment. An intimidating, fierce look. ¡°You seem to have a good intuition, child,¡± Diana commented calmly as she read his thoughts. Was it because of ageless wisdom? ¡°Thanks.¡± Yes, he was a child. Boris never questioned that term. Elves had an enormous lifespan and he did not dare venture a guess, in fear of crossing the line. Women rarely loved the topic of age. He turned his curiosity to the magic again asking, ¡°That was arcane magic, wasn¡¯t it? Do you happen to know the field well?¡± ¡°You must be obliviously na?ve to not know that. I am an Elf, arcane magic flows in our blood. It is an insult to ask me such a question,¡± she cautioned him as she answered. ¡°I am sorry,¡± Boris proffered an apology. ¡°It does not matter; I do not expect propriety out of one such young and na?ve. I will drill it into you anyway,¡± Diana seemed to take no mind of it. She shuffled a little before she came near Boris and asked, ¡°Again, how do you feel?¡± There was a little curiosity there. ¡°Dead tired, I cannot move, I find it difficult to lift a finger and my body feels completely lethargic. And yet it also feels restless and eager, as if ready to burst out.¡± Boris tried to explain how he felt and Diana nodded understandingly. ¡°That is good,¡± she answered, ¡°it means you have potential to grow and when you have regained your vitality, you will feel a lot better.¡± Boris could only wander about that potential. As far as he knew there was no cure to ineptitude, he had ransacked enough books on that. But he didn¡¯t know too far, who knew Elven arcane magic could change his situation, magic was an enigma after all. Even if it didn¡¯t, he felt physically better. His joints did not ache and his limbs were no longer in pain. It was not as if he had lost the sensation itself. It felt more like he had been renewed, freed from faults. ¡®A blessing of growth indeed.¡¯ ¡°Thank you Diana, I am afraid I won¡¯t be able to repay you this favor but I cannot express my thanks enough,¡± Boris replied on a positive note, his eyes hopeful for a bright future. His pupils encompassed the infinite sky. ¡°Get rest child, you will be all the more grateful tomorrow.¡± Diana ordered him to sleep and Boris accepted, drowning into the dreamland. Diana shuffled closer once he was asleep, pondering his peaceful face. Innocence was as precious in this world as any, but not as welcome. It was a hindrance to heroes and warriors. He would wake up from that innocence one day; it was only a matter of time. Diana only wished he preserved a part of it in this world¡­ And that he lived long enough to lose it. She wrapped the boy in a blanket and pulled him into the tent, casting protective spells around it. She sat herself on the opposite side of Boris, munching the roasted meat of the fang rabbit. It was good, rabbits were always good prey. She lied down in her own thoughts as night descended, prevaricating over issues that were left unsaid. Boris slept softly, breathing up small whispers of air against the blanket. And the night turned silent, muted by the spell Diana cast over the tent. ¡­¡­¡­ It was a noisy, unruly morning. The birds were hooting away a full-blown song upon his eardrums, causing Boris to grab his ears shut in annoyance. That did not help much. The early sunlight burnt away the inside of his eyes through closed eyelids and the grass pricked his exposed face eagerly. The whole forest was bursting in loud raucous activity when it was barely dawn. Boris wondered if he had fallen into a grove of helter-skelters and wrack ravens feasting on a corpse of a wyvern. But it was too bright and as he opened his eyes, shading them under his hand, he could see no monsters nearby. ¡°Awake, I reckon,¡± Diana sat unaffected in the blinding sunlight, speaking strangely. ¡®Wait, she is speaking Cylian,¡¯ Boris realized. ¡°Good morning. Am I late?¡± Boris replied in Cylian. ¡°No qualms,¡± Diana assured him, ¡°It is your first day in all, you deserve a little leeway.¡± She sat beside a firepot, stirring the contents with a ladle. The aroma drifted into his nose and assaulted his smell as his mouth watered. Boris heard the loud grumble of his stomach as he wiped his drool to ask, ¡°Rabbit meat in coriander and spice?¡± ¡®No,¡¯ he revised internally, ¡®what about that sweet part, sugar? Sugarfern? Wait, there¡¯s more, oof,¡¯ he pinched his nostrils as the amalgamation of smells overflowed, ¡®Too many things mixed within!¡¯ ¡°Vainly guessed,¡± Diana told him, ¡°but not completely incorrect.¡± Boris crept forward to glance into the pot but Diana snubbed his hand away. ¡°The rules, pup. Today I allow you to eat with my share but tomorrow on, you eat what you hunt.¡± Boris nodded hungrily, eager to satiate his appetite. ¡°Also,¡± Diana snubbed him again as she held out a bristled branch, ¡°clean up before you eat.¡± Boris took the bristle and sauntered over to the nearby brook to clean up. It was most delicious meal of his life, and he ate up a huge amount in hunger. All done and finished, he approached Diana to begin his training. ¡°Well,¡± she asked, ¡°feel any different?¡± Boris widened his eyes as he wondered the change he had felt since morning. ¡°Very different,¡± he replied with realization. ¡°Good,¡± Diana said, ¡°it will take you awhile to habituate. Meanwhile, we shall commence breathing exercises.¡± Boris felt excited at the prospect. His mind imagined the breathing exercises of Chinese monks and martial artists the developed internal energy and created inhuman strength. Lords and devils! How wrong he was¡­. ________________ Boris struggled, with the gravest determination he could muster, to extricate himself. Foolish. It was impossible. The infatuated vines held him with reckless strength, straining against his waist for hold and causing further pain. Love hurts. And he could not get away. They pulled at him from each end while the force pushed him back. He was in deep waters, literally and metaphorically. The rapids slapped against his face in wrath, knocking the air out of his lungs and thrashing him about like a toy. He could never imagine that the calm brook would have had such devastating beginnings. He struggled, flailed, thrashed his arms and legs and tried to endure the fierce tirade of water, procuring a deep, rapid breath each instant he could. ¡®Breathing exercises, my foot! My lungs!¡¯ Boris did not waste a word on breath, only cursed Diana in his mind. She wasn¡¯t just dangerous dangerous, she was catastrophic dangerous. It was learn or die lesson. An obvious choice really, so he struggled to learn. It was after uncountable cycles of struggle, fainting, drowning and resuscitation that Diana finally allowed him rest. He breathed respite at his survival, fearing for the days to come. It could develop in a trauma for him. By the evening, his fears were allayed. He would never develop a trauma, he didn¡¯t have the time or capacity left for it. Boris ran enthusiastically, expending every faculty of his to survive. ¡°The weak must learn three things first,¡± Diana had lectured, ¡°to run, to dodge and to hide.¡± Then she had begun her inhuman assault of daggers and arrows, interchanging at sudden intervals. The only silver lining was that Boris could actually see them, and get a faint sense of their trajectory, providing him a pittance of time to avoid it. Of course, he couldn¡¯t avoid them all. And he was truly surprised to learn that Diana¡¯s attacks were serious, filled with an enormous killing intent that made him shudder. The bruises and cuts on his body served as proof. Diana only altered her attacks at the very last moment, making sure nothing fatal occurred. ¡®Catastrophic? No, Apocalyptic,¡¯ Boris revised his opinion of her once again. It would be a long, arduous journey but he was prepared for it. _________________ Boris retired for the night utterly exhausted. His body craved sleep after the travails of the day. And if tomorrow was going to get harder, he would need to rest well. The tent had turned dark and silent, extremely calm to his senses. He pondered a little about magic and other things before he turned his mind to the one issue he was avoiding since morning. His mana tree, the network of empty, cold mana vessels that had felt like a barren desert. He had noticed sometime during the day that he could feel them clearly now, almost instinctively. Earlier he had to concentrate for an hour or so to feel them well, and any attempt at harnessing mana had been a failure. His mana tree had branched out immensely, for the lack of a better word, but it had not bloomed. It was in perpetual winter. Boris tried to fill it up, stressing his mind and heart for what he considered the reservoir. He pressed hard with resolve and hope, only to have the pain emerge again. His hands cramped, his heart cringed and his mind shuddered. They were empty, destitute. He pondered over other things he could do to create mana, making a note to ask Diana if she knew. ¡°Diana,¡± he asked before the heaviness of sleep could whisk him away, ¡°Will you teach me arcane magic?¡± ¡°Not today, child. Not today.¡± Boris slept with a huge smile upon his face, not all was lost. _______________ 10. Fruits of labor 10. Fruits of labor The wonders of nature were wasted on Boris. The melodious singing of birds, the soft swaying of trees, the humble rustle of leaves and the liveliness of the forest. They were mere distractions, too flimsy at that. The only sound his mind registered at the moment was the feeble grumbling of his stomach, hunger needed satisfaction. And to eat, he needed to hunt. Diana had drilled that well. He pushed on his belly to dampen the noise. Boris crept close to the ground, his breath calm and subdued. He wore a head of foliage and a face of mud. His eyes stalked the prey, never losing its trail. He did not feed on scraps anymore. A few days on those had left him more hungry than satisfied. The grass scratched his face, insinuating an itch. Boris ignored it and crept closer. His feet twitched ever so slightly and slid him noiselessly on the grass. He peeked cautiously, scanning the unaware prey. It was alone, good. Packs were difficult to deal with. Diana was a good teacher, and a great motivator. The time with her had compelled him to learn all that he could to survive, in any way possible. Not many teachers taught you by practically threatening you with death, or worse. It also helped greatly that the blessing had changed him. He was more alert, active, and capable of greater physical exertion. Boris had wondered if this was how his friends had felt. Diana had responded that they felt better, and fared similarly. She was skimpy on the praise. The fang rabbit was now munching on a berry, having come to a halt nearby. Its ears shook from direction to direction, trying to catch wind of any danger. It held the berry between both paws, turning it over curiously while it smelled the air for danger. These animals had a curious sense for mana, too bad for them Boris was an inept. Satisfied with its safety, the rabbit finally turned to the second berry and grasped it, scattering a few others in enthusiasm. It lost the sense of danger and its ears drooped. Boris breathed out. The arrow left his bow noiselessly, evoking no response from the rabbit. A wail emerged as the arrow pierced in, the spoil was his. Boris retrieved the arrow, those were difficult to fashion and therefore precious. He packed up the rabbit, slung the sack behind him and wandered back. Four rabbits dangled inside the sack. He had only touched the wooden bow four times today, a sign of improvement. Boris traced the crude marks he had dug into the trunks as directions. On his way, he gave a discrete look to the usual row of nests cradled across the lower branches. A pack of new eggs glistened upon one. Boris grinned. Today¡¯s breakfast would be a feast! Boiled eggs were a delicacy. Birds of this forest were extremely lazy with laying eggs. He had to scour a dozen different groves and would still rarely find any. He placed the bow and quiver upon the ground, both humble gifts from Diana. The arrowheads were stone while everything else was made of some kind of hard wood. Diana had only taught him few basics of archery. ¡°All in due time,¡± was her answer to most queries. But he didn¡¯t have time. Climbing up a tree was not a pleasant task, nor was it simple. Boris ran a cursory glance for monkeys and other annoyances before grasping a foothold on one of the higher roots. He climbed deftly, his hands finding crevices and rough edges as he kept his eyes and ears open for hostiles. The mother was yet to catch wind of him. He tied a vine to one of the higher branches, drawing its other end tight around his belt. It never hurt to be careful. He moved stealthily, his breath even with the breeze until he was finally up and ready to loot. A handball of smokescreen dulled the mother. Two parts of ground lin berries, one part of triven sol bark powder, one part slime tar concentrate and a pinch of crackle thorn dust. Boris praised the recipe as the mother cackled loudly, unable to sense the culprit. He relocated two eggs immediately, holding his breath in the fumes. He was already halfway across the nest by the time the smoke dispersed, propelled by a strong wind. Unfortunately, the mother was already upon him. The screechwings were a hassle, but a brooding screechwing was a threat. The mother sliced apart the air with its fluttering wings, creating the irking noise of nails scratching metal. Boris ducked, missing most of them while a few tore into his clothes. He held his arms close to his chest as he plunged to the next lower branch, eager to get away. ¡®No merit in killing the golden goose, or in this case, the bloody screechwing.¡¯ The mother screeched harder, sending a gale towards him. He jumped again but a slice crushed the branch below, robbing his foothold. He skewed backwards and was unable to regain balance. Boris plunged back instead, falling headlong. The rope went taut just before he reached the ground and jerked at his waist. His foot found support the same moment and he spun with the rope¡¯s jerk, placing him upright once again. He gripped the trunk hard with one hand as the other pulled apart the knot and dismantled the safety rope. Then he jumped to the close security of the ground, landing in a soft thump. Retrieving the bow and quiver was a small task. He retreated while breathing phantom apologies to the mother. She chose not to leave her nest unguarded and follow him. A few more gales did impact the ground but they could do no harm. Boris dodged them easily while he scurried away. The eggs were already nestled in their pouch and he felt for them by passing a hand over the pouch. ¡®Intact eggs, successful endeavor!¡¯ Boris made his way back to Diana in a good mood. ¡°You are late,¡± Diana censured. Only half an hour had been allocated and he had exceeded that. ¡°I brought eggs,¡± Boris responded, undaunted. Diana peered at his egg-laden hands before looking at his torn clothes. She sighed, ¡°You ripped your clothes again. No matter, get the fire going.¡± If there was one thing Boris liked about autumn, it was the convenience autumn brought to forests¡ªFruit laden trees ready for picking, a reduced cover of foliage for clearer view and the vast expanse of dry fallen leaves for setting things on fire. But winter was getting into season, the air was getting colder each day and the animals would start hibernating soon. Boris gathered the litter and set the sparks alight, striking the flint in one precise stroke. He had barely set the water boiling when Diana was done. Finely chopped pieces of rabbit meat sat on a small wooden slab, ready for cooking. It was always interesting to see Diana cook, his own talent at cooking being poor. Diana sprinkled a few handpicked herbs that Boris had foraged and added hints of other materials in an almost scientific manner. She had vials of what looked like tens of varieties of salts and spices. They failed to make the food a delicacy but it always better than bland food, and Boris was always hungry. His hunger had spiked ever since he had received the blessing. ¡°Why do you carry around so many spices?¡± Boris had once asked her. ¡°They¡¯re not spices. They are alchemical salts. With the right mix, the right spell and the right procedure, you can create the most potent of concoctions. It does help that some of them can make the food taste better.¡± That had been surprising. He had never pegged Diana as an alchemist but he remembered that all elves were supposedly good at it. Alchemy did interest him some, and it always helped to learn a few wayward recipes that didn¡¯t need magic. The smokescreen was one, its pungent odor often more chafing than its cloudy charade. Diana however, had advised him against blind experiments. They were dangerous. Not that it worked, Boris loved creating explosive recipes. Seedthorn, Pickblow, Howlking, Walltricks; Boris was surprised how some of Diana¡¯s recipes could be twisted just the wrong way to create such devilish abominations. And for all the banter he heard about disgracing the sacred art of Alchemy and the ridiculous punishments he incurred, it was worth it. The duel had taught him to look for such methods and Diana felt extremely regretful about having aided him in that. The meal ended promptly, Diana disliked wasting time. She had already coupled his morning exercises with food hunts. ¡°Change your clothes, and prepare for sparring.¡± Boris handed over the torn tunic as he changed into loose robes, a dirt-brown vest and mud green pants held by thick black sash. Apparently the clothes of elven trainees. Diana passed a hand over his tunic as she chanted. A soft glow emerged, the cloth stirred and the threads wriggled to reform. Within minutes, there was no trace of tear on the tunic. Boris smiled at the display. Even though Diana was reserved with her magic, he always found it oddly satisfying and immersive. Unlike the spells Violet used, which did not need chants, Diana often favored chants and arcane magic. The magic itself looked wondrous, a soft warm glow that calmed the air. He had been pestering her fervently about every magic she displayed and sought her help with understanding arcane magic. Sadly, it was colossal field without a beginning or an end. Boris was all but lost about it, trying to piece together vestiges he claimed from Diana. Diana threw the repaired tunic back, upon the mound of Boris¡¯s belongings. A clump of clothes, a few logs of wood, bristled twigs and a sleek dagger sat among the miscellany. An plain wooden hilt supported a steel blade, a rare weapon. The hilt had no traces of metal and he could use it well. He was yet to learn how to use it well though. ¡°All in due time.¡± Boris ignored the dagger and stood up, walking up to his own position. ¡°Learn to dodge better kid, you will be roaming naked else,¡± Diana lectured as she walked across the level opening, Boris standing opposite. The leaves had been cleared and only the grass spun in persistence. Boris took a deep breath, holding his hands loosening as he relaxed his body. His left arm was grasped behind his waist and his right bent forward. The free form, the basis of all other forms. ¡°I had eggs in my pants, it was kind of difficult.¡± He darted the same moment he spoke, each step a diversionary movement that impinged on Diana¡¯s blind spot. Diversion was the first form, the one he had learnt best. Boris launched a hit from sideways, twisting to extract force from the ground. His body bent as his palm thrust at her flank. Diana countered the incoming hit away, not even turning her face to look at him. ¡°Wrong,¡± she frowned, ¡°the second form is inversion, twist the step inside and the palm outside!¡± Her hand whirled around his as she pulled him. Boris flung upside down with that sudden movement, unable to counter it. Whoever said elves were physically weak was an ignorant buffoon. Going by the accounts of Diana, the martial arts the elves had invented went beyond power, almost ignoring it. Svenda was what it was called in Cylian, it meant ¡®swift death¡¯. Even as a novice, he could see it was powerful. Boris regained his bearings mid-air doing a complete spin as he landed deftly behind her. His feet swept under her, intent on striking her down. There were balance points and counter points, each vital in disrupting the enemy. A well-placed hit would always work, irrespective of how strong the opponent was, as long as he was not extremely large too. His body remembered each such location, having received innumerable hits on those very same points. Elaine dodged his sweeping kick easily, her feet flickering while Boris missed. ¡°Wrong.¡± She lectured Boris who stood up swiftly. ¡°The sweep must be compact, and the foot half-flexed,¡± Boris heard as his feet faltered, the strength leaving his ankles. Diana had just demonstrated a perfect sweep. Just another reminder of where the balance point was. Boris pushed his hands behind him as he fell back, rolled back deftly to stand up, one arm held outwards in defense. His feet planted flexibly, ready for the next sweep if be. Diana didn¡¯t attack, just stood up leisurely, waiting for him to retaliate. For all its versatility, the Svenda had one massive flaw. It depended heavily on counters. All lethal hits were derived from the enemy¡¯s own momentum, turning the opponent¡¯s strength into a weapon. As long as one didn¡¯t attack however, one couldn¡¯t be countered. Boris took a deep breath in and bent a little. He lunged abruptly, curving in towards the landing. The trajectory put him just out of Diana¡¯s reach, and evoked the slightest hint of astonishment only visible on a feral smile. The third form was a spiral, a highly perceptive form. Boris attacked as he circled her. Every attack left a false opening, provoking the opponent into a fruitless assault. Turning hits into counters. His fist extended and was parried, her thrust entered empty space and was countered by a blow, which was reverse countered. Palm thrusts were deflected, sharp strikes evaded and knees and legs tackled each other in restraint. It was soon a flurry of mixed blows, each traded as a counter to the previous and parried by the next. Boris found his hands weave through the throttle of blows almost instinctively. Diana¡¯s training was more suitable and adaptable, designed for people like him. If only he had a little more height, he would be the perfect candidate for it. He envied Claire¡¯s height in a moment of distraction and a palm thrust caught him. Boris choked heavily on his breath as he was flung away, the world swirling violently in brazen shock. This was the second thing that differed in Diana¡¯s training. Every hit harbored a genuine intent to kill. It was at a level that wrenched his nerves open, draining his fear away in brute force. And she repeated it again and again, in every way possible, until death felt preferable. Boris wondered if he could ever feel fear again, all the monsters felt like cute puppies before Diana. And many behaved similarly. Boris found a second brutal kick throw him back up just as he neared ground, shielding his flank with the elbow at the last moment. This was the third difference. Welmar always gave him an occasion to retreat and recover. Diana found it insulting to observe such practices on a battlefield. It was enough that she didn¡¯t kill him. As a result, any successful hit of hers could merge into a combo and leave Boris airborne for a while. He had actually spent the first week just being whirled into the air, even if he excluded the time the fimberhounds made fair game of him. A third hit found his barely guarded back before he finally dropped onto the ground, relishing the crude brush of grass on his face. The soil smelled of defeat and litter. Boris lay sprawled onto the floor for a few seconds, easing his breath before Diana approached. He clambered back abruptly to his form as she smiled ferociously. ¡°Again?¡± Diana asked, seeing Boris take the free form. Her emerald eyes glowed with bestial provocation as she swung her braid back in challenge. A bead of sweat had yet to form on her brows and her breath was as calm as a sleeping child. Her lips neither smiled nor frowned, just parted briefly to display silver teeth. The air shivered around her now and the critters scattered in fear. Dangerous, was an understatement. ¡°Again,¡± Boris responded undaunted. His toes strained as he plunged in. ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­ It was afternoon when Boris observed the second of Diana¡¯s rituals in training. The relatively innocuous exercise that helped in controlling breathing. A thick sturdy vine was still tied to his waist as a safety measure and he wafted along the rapids of the river that made a descent across the terrain, trying to defy it. He had to swim upstream while maintaining his breath. He had to give it to Diana, she knew exactly how to motivate people. This stretch of water was different from the previous one, they had shifted south over the days before Diana had found it. The river was deeper here and just as rowdy, if not more. Boris thundered against the currents, his breath still erratic against the cold thrust of water as his arms splashed in vehement rebellion. It was not entirely useless, however. He had started developing some resistance to the water flow. That and the blessing Diana had bestowed made sure he could now maintain a status quo in the water, two pushes back and ten pushes forward. It was also important to figure the currents. It took a lot of time for Boris to figure out regions where the currents clashed, creating an area of milder flow. He made it his priority to keep to these regions as much as possible and advance slowly. The objective was to make him capable of swimming upstream without any safety measures, and he sincerely hoped it was possible. Just staying as is took a huge toil on his body and Diana insisted he stay an hour for two separate intervals each. It was innocuous, he could never die and Diana was always ready to save him if he drowned or fainted. ____________ This gave way to the third of rituals. Each ritual was generous in providing him little time to cook, eat and rest. Diana gestured to him as Boris got ready for her assault. He nodded back. She vanished, Boris tilted sideways, and a gash cut the air in half without a sound. Boris shifted to accommodate a second invisible swing. He wondered why the world needed heroes when it had Diana, she could probably cut the whole continent in half without a sound and never be seen doing it. ¡°Pay attention!¡± Boris shifted again to dodge an oblique swipe and bent back as it reversed into a horizontal swing. The rule required that he never retaliate, oddly infuriating but rational. He was learning to dodge after all. Boris repeated a sequence of movements that put him difficult to trace in a single strike. Diana called this form aversion, something that deterred and exhausted enemies, robbing their offensive with mere defense. He was poor at this because it required a height of combat experience, and Diana was providing him just that. ¡°Use your feet better!¡± Three consecutive slashes cut along. Boris leaped back to avoid the first, tilted as the second traced upward and shifted when the third found his face. A thin line of blood resumed on his cheek. It would not leave a scar. Boris leapt back again before the next blow could dig his neck and spun on his left foot as Diana lunged next. His arm parted to make space for another thrust. His flank hurt, another wound. ¡°Do not look away. Your senses are your only saving grace.¡± ¡°I am trying, I am trying!¡± His eyes continuously traced each strike and span, but his body was yet to keep up with it. Diana swiped the dagger for a sword in one fluent blow. The range increased abruptly as he received a stab to his shoulder, even though he had tried to evade. He groaned to pull a rough cloth tight over his wound, it was not deep and he did not have time. The second stab came as he leaped back yet again. This time a tree held his back, cutting off his leap. ¡°There are only so many times you can retreat.¡± The sword came faster than he could see. His eyes went wide as his spine shuddered. The sword brushed through his hair to stab the trunk and Boris almost felt himself die. It was enormous, the killing intent almost made him faint as he slumped down. Diana had increased her pressure yet again. He calmed his thudding heart to stand up. She would barely give him a few moments. Diana trained him mostly with fast weapons, the swords, the daggers and the short spear. She rarely used broadswords or polearms and never wielded an axe. They were weapons for barbarians and brutes, not for a genteel elf. Where she got them, he had no idea. They were definitely not with her when she arrived and he had no time to peek on her actions, as much as he wanted to. ¡°Can¡¯t I just use my dagger? It will help me learn to attack and dodge at the same time,¡± Boris asked her after the melee had ended. ¡°You don¡¯t think that flimsy metal would hold against reinforced weapons, do you? There are plenty of attacks you can never defend against and evasion is the greatest safety. I will burn it into your body,¡± Diana cautioned as she plucked her bow. Boris sprinted for cover. Arrows stalked him, curving through the air in dreadful motions. Some of them would just pierce the ground, but others would cave it. ¡®Right, plenty of attacks I cannot defend against.¡¯ He kept Diana within his sight as he ran, gauging her motion for the next arrow¡¯s trajectory. Even if they could curve, they could not bend a full course. Some were imbued with magic though, proving to have wider effects and ridiculous strength. He had to start running early, as soon as he sensed danger, to get out of their range. Fortunately, because Diana held some fondness for the forest she never used magic too strong or too large. The forest would have turned into flat earth otherwise. Really, why did they need heroes? He would pay a ton of gold to see Ray defeat Diana, if he dared. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The ritual ended with two arrows up his arm and gashes across his body. They served as reminders against further neglect. Boris changed his torn and muddied clothes after being healed. He would be needing some new clothes soon. He wished Diana would just conjure them up, like she did with weapons. The fourth ritual was where Diana really showed her skills. She didn¡¯t even whistle, just voiced words silently into the wind, and a pack of fimberhounds came running out of the woods into her lap. They behaved like pets, licking her and hogging her attention. Except they were five foot tall monsters with the ability to spit fire and stun opponents with their barking. They had a sense of smell so keen Boris was sure they could separate a drop of sweat from the ocean. And they were devious hunters. ¡°How do you even do that?¡± Boris asked once again, with stupefaction. ¡°I told you Boris, I am an Elf, an Empathizer.¡± ¡°Right, that infinitely complicated and vague explanation about the blessings of fairies and spirits. Why wasn¡¯t I born an elf?¡± ¡°I have no qualms if you want to digress, I will be releasing them in five minutes either way.¡± Boris ran like the wind. Never was a moment wasted before Diana, she loathed leisure. What had begun for stamina training and hiding skills, had turned into an eerie nightmarish escape. Those despicable hounds hunted him voraciously, their mouths glistening with tarry saliva that flowed over savage canines. And they never refrained from biting him, those curs! What if he caught rabies? Diana did tell him that she could heal most ailments but who wanted to take a chance like that? And to make matters worse, they would chase him till the last instance of dusk, meaning that he had to hunt for dinner at the same time while escaping and hiding from them. Diana had implemented this crafty idea after she found Boris ¡®capable¡¯. Because fimberhounds were brilliant hunters, they often led him around their own territories, packed with other creepy monsters and animals that served to hinder him. On the bright side, he also found food easily, only if he could trick them. ¡®Dodge, hide, run, my new outlook on life.¡¯ Boris threw a smokescreen, while littering his trail with a few pickblows. They were small plates that exploded on being pressed, like landmines. But safer, one could never lose a limb. A finger though, was fair game. He never had them in sufficient quantity, Presain roots were difficult to acquire. He skirted through the more stinky parts of the forest, hoping it would mask some of his scent. If he could jump from treetop to treetop like Diana, he would have had an easy escape. Boris peered back into the dense foliage to sense bloodthirsty eyes stalking him. He wiped the sweat from his brow and ran faster. This was going to be another long day. ______________ (Two weeks ago) It was a feast. A celebration. Large banners hung in colorful decorations and lights flamed in the night. Revelry spun, taking the people along in drinks and songs. Huge tables lay along the Village Hall, the poorly embroidered cloth being the best decoration they could afford. The village chief sat at the head, his daughter and wife at either side. Hope gleamed on their faces. Their saviors had come. The fear of death had left their eyes and the excitement of life danced within. Ray sat across the table, with Violet, Sylvia and Claire. Elaine had left them partway through their journey, having some other engagements. Her absence did not amount to much, the heroes considered her strength to be the least among the party members. Ray peered across the table towards the village chief. The old man had barely enough hair to hide his scalp. ¡°Is there something not to your liking Sir Ray? Please do excuse us if we have offended you in some part,¡± the old man spoke deferentially. ¡°Nothing of the sort, please, I am honored to have such a large feast in my presence.¡± Ray looked around jovially, cherishing the spirit of liveliness. It had been over a month since they had begun their expedition to rid the bandits. First, it was Sloona, a town in the southeastern boonies of Cumaria. The town had made a request with the Order of Thiracus to aid them against bandits. Because the town held little of importance, the kingdom had delayed its help. Violet had immediately advised to pick it up. ¡°It will provide a small reward but most importantly, it will be easier and you will get a touch.¡± A touch of killing people, a touch of people dying. The bandits in Sloona were child¡¯s play. Their weapons were clumsy and their strength mockable. The Sloona bandits had launched an ill meant attack, killing a few people before the heroes arrived. A fierce onslaught forced them to retreat while killing half their force. But the problem didn¡¯t end there, it migrated. After Sloona came Miduard, an old trading town that had fallen after the split of Sumaira. It was full of dilapidated buildings and poor people, and the incidents of banditry had increased. The heroes went east in their purge and repeated the action. They met a slightly stronger force but dealt with it easily. Then came Gitten, another small village. Every time they met the enemy force it grew slightly stronger, better prepared. But it didn¡¯t matter, the heroes were a whole different level. In all his instances of battle, Ray had found the denizens of evil gravely lacking. They were weak, impatient and unprepared. They were easy prey. Sylvia had a few bouts of nervousness and fainting at the bloodshed but she had won over it. Tabin was the current village they occupied. It had turned into a hellhole of bandits and robbers. That was not strange. Tabin was located south of the kingdom, after the Sikri road ended. It had only one watch post and produced nothing of great value to Cumaria. South of Tabin, the Shadows of Sik degraded into hills and caverns before falling into the cliffs of Marbess. The sea extended beyond it. This was a middle of nowhere. But the heroes had a duty, and Ray savored that duty. ¡°Rest assured mister Endon. We, the heroes, will get rid of the bandits for well. It is despicable of them to threaten poor souls and I will not allow it.¡± Ray reaffirmed his decision. ¡°I am highly grateful for your assurance. We have always been in fear of their cruelty, fearing for the lives of our children and ourselves. They even abducted my grand-niece a while ago¡­¡± his eyes turned pale in horror, ¡°Gods! I pray she is safe. Please save her and everyone else,¡± the village chief implored. ¡°We will,¡± Claire assured him, ¡°and we will do it so they will not lift a finger again.¡± She was already seething to kill those scum. ¡°Praise Thiracus! For surely he has sent his aid to us in our time of misery,¡± the village chief exclaimed loudly. ¡°Praise Thiracus!¡± voices resounded. And the atmosphere burst with loud raucous cheers and the clatter of jugs. People danced and sang, rejecting their fear to adorn merriment. Ray joined in the celebration. Everywhere they went they brought hope and vanquished evil. Everywhere they went people welcomed them with open arms. They were a miracle. They were heroes. ¡°Ray,¡± Sylvia shushed him out of the dream. ¡°What is it Sylvia?¡± ¡°I need to discuss something with you,¡± she whispered. ¡°Speak aloud.¡± ¡°No, privately.¡± Ray eyed Sylvia curiously before nodding. He turned to his hosts, ¡°Please allow me leave. I have matters I must discuss with my companions.¡± Endon acceded immediately, ¡°Absolutely. But please do us the honor coming back, it would be an empty celebration without you.¡± Ray, Claire and Violet followed Sylvia back to a simple inn room. Sylvia was not very pleased to have others come, but this was an important matter. ¡°So?¡± Ray asked after taking a seat. ¡°I want to ask, what do you think of this expedition?¡± ¡°What do I think?¡± Ray shrugged, ¡°It is progressing well, I am overjoyed with it.¡± ¡°No, why do you think we are here in the first place,¡± Sylvia asked. ¡°Because the king wanted us to gain some experience and I thought it was right. This also helps me take my mind off other things,¡± Ray replied honestly. ¡°You don¡¯t get it do you? It was our choice. We started in Sloona but every next request we took brought us east along inconspicuous places. Each of them was plagued with bandits and had filed a request. Do you see where I am going?¡± Everyone else eyed her curiously, expecting some brilliant deduction. ¡°This is a route,¡± Sylvia spoke passionately, ¡°a secret route. We met bandits and robbers all along, many of them carrying loot and whatever else. This is their turf and it leads all the way along the eastern border, away from the kingdom¡¯s eyes.¡± ¡°So? What do you want to say?¡± Violet asked Sylvia. ¡°Why would they need a route? They are transporting things, maybe smuggling something?¡± ¡°They are robbers Sylvia, that is what they do,¡± Ray told her. ¡°Unless they are smuggling something else,¡± she told them. ¡°Now that is just a blind guess, we never found anything else on them.¡± ¡°We did,¡± Sylvia countered. ¡°All we found were corpses. They killed the people and the monsters nearby so that was expected.¡± ¡°Exactly. What if they were smuggling monsters and slaves? Didn¡¯t they abduct people here?¡± ¡°They asked for a ransom Sylvia,¡± Claire interjected, ¡°I heard from the villagers. And there is no slavery in Cumaria, not since a few decades.¡± ¡°And it doesn¡¯t matter either way,¡± Ray finished, ¡°we will kill them, release the hostages and secure peace. Everything else can be handled by the kingdom. We are not detectives.¡± Sylvia accepted it reluctantly. ¡°It makes sense but it seems a little risky.¡± ¡°There will be no risk,¡± Claire told her, ¡°I have located their hideout. It¡¯s an abandoned fortress. We will infiltrate, rescue the hostages and kill the rest.¡± ¡°That sounds like a plan.¡± Ray accepted it confidently. And thus, Sylvia gave up on her misgivings. In hindsight, she never should have. _________________ Inside a dark opulent room of the abandoned fortress near Tabin, sat a burly figure. A Scythian by the name of Sodor. He was an outlaw from Sturmhelm and had found refuge in Cumaria, expanding his organization over the lesser guarded eastern border. The eastern border sunk right into the Anatheim Sea and had no ports. The only utility had been easy travel to the south. But once the south had split away as Sumaria, trade and commerce had declined along this route. This worked severely in his favor; he only needed a decade to secure monopoly over the route. The route itself proved a boon. It was not the villages that provided him with paltry money and resources. Nor was it the infrequent travelers. It was the shady clients. There were especially interested in an organization such as his. One with the ability to transport goods and carry out a few errands, without casting any suspicion on them. He had also propagated his power aggressively, claiming hideouts and secret storages. He killed ruthlessly, to instill fear into villagers and subordinates alike. He had even begun delving into slave trading. It was all part of a grand scheme that was now falling apart. Some brats calling themselves heroes had popped up and wrecked his territories and men. They had whittled down his power bit by bit, until this last refuge remained. ¡®They are strong, but I will make them pay. No one messes with Sodor.¡¯ ¡°Leader,¡± a subordinate interrupted his thoughts. ¡°What,¡± Sodor asked, a menacing scar cut twice over his cruel lips. ¡°H-he¡¯s here,¡± the subordinate replied in dread. ¡°Ah, send him in Vook,¡± Sodor replied as the door opened again, a man in dark purple armor walked in. His face held a curious mask, cut in curved slits at his eyes and mouth and without a slit for nose. The man walked without fear and sat down comfortably before Sodor, spreading his arms on the couch. ¡°What is this I hear? Have the Bloody Corpse grown so weak to fall to a couple of brats?¡± Solon gave a bloody glare to the masked visitor before turning to Vook, ¡°Who?¡± he asked, ¡°Who spilled?¡± ¡°I- I don¡¯t- I t-think it was Corrow,¡± Vook minced his words. ¡°Fingers and toes, then arms and legs, then the eyes and the head. You know the drill,¡± Sodor ordered him in an insipid tone. Vook left without a word. ¡°Cruel as always, you think I don¡¯t have other sources of information?¡± the visitor spoke cheerfully. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter Viker, or should I call you pagan Viker?¡± Sodor voiced an insult. The air stirred and the table split in half, a fatal blow that Sodor had avoided by shifting barely. A gash sat in the wall behind him but he paid it no heed. His hand held a dagger at Viker¡¯s throat, a small line of blood upon it. ¡°Let us not fight,¡± Sodor threatened. ¡°I agree. Down to business then, where are the goods?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you have a look before coming down?¡± An eerie feeling erupted from behind the mask, causing Sodor to flinch. ¡°Do not fool me Sodor. She is a half, I asked for pureblood. Even if you bring me seven instead of six, it is the pureblood that matters most.¡± ¡°The child is pureblood, the adult is half. You didn¡¯t pay attention did you?¡± ¡°Ah, my mistake, it was very weak so I reckoned both the same. It still means that you cut corners,¡± Viker cautioned. ¡°It was the best I could get. I will give you ten others as an apology, but I don¡¯t have any purebloods other than her,¡± Sodor put forward his offer. ¡°Deal,¡± the masked man replied after some thought and rose to get away. He turned back just before exiting the door. ¡°I would advise you to deal with the brats soon,¡± were the last words he left. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Sodor spoke with a murderous smile, ¡°we will show them hell.¡± __________________________ (Current time) Boris returned slightly late for dinner. His clothes were muddied but not torn. His hair was unkempt, his face caked with mud and his body layered in it. His hands held clumps of wet mud. A leather skin pouch filled with water was hanging at his waist. He walked confidently towards the burning fire of the camp. He had gotten a bit lost but he had fared better than he hoped. ¡°You are late,¡± Diana lectured him. ¡°I know, I know. Guess what I found?¡± Boris dropped the heavy knapsack from his back on the ground. It opened and a belger fell out. Belgers looked like deers, but much smaller and with short curved horns. He had read that they were a delicacy and hid in bogs of mud. ¡°A belger. That is rare, you jumped into a bog?¡± Diana questioned him. ¡°I took all the precautions alright? Those curs didn¡¯t leave me much chance so I just tied a vine and jumped in. And oh, I found this great feast there, hunted him with my arrows.¡± ¡°You could have sunk and died,¡± Diana reminded him. ¡°But I didn¡¯t, and I made two great discoveries,¡± Boris told her excitedly. ¡°Two?¡± ¡°One, the belger. Two, the fimberhounds absolutely hate wet mud! You should have seen me drive them off. Oh, sweet vengeance!¡± Boris recreated the scene where he had slung mudballs onto the fimberhounds, making them yelp as they growled at him. Their firebolts missed and he never allowed them to get near while he fired his own shots. ¡°So you found out? I suppose I will have to give up on them chasing you then.¡± ¡°Yes you will,¡± Boris told her with great happiness. The worst of the rituals would now be over. He breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I will call the silverpelts from tomorrow.¡± ¡°They¡¯re wolves! And they actually eat humans sometimes!¡± Boris exclaimed in disbelief. ¡°All the more reason to call them.¡± ¡°I should never have told you about that,¡± Boris regretted. ¡°Shut up kid. You stink, go clean up and then help me skin this, so we can eat.¡± Boris reluctantly took his bath and returned. Diana skinned and prepared the bergel meticulously while Boris observed keenly, eager to learn some of her expertise. The sumptuous dinner left Boris with the last leg of the day. Barely two hours before he would need to sleep. Boris searched through his belongings to pull out a stack of parchment and unrolled it. There were two different sets set apart by a thick leaf. He ran a cursory glance through the first one. It enunciated various things about arcane magic he had learned from Diana. Most of it was very vague and he had no idea how Pedantic spells could incorporate these. He ran a few more checks upon his findings and tried to make greater sense of them. A comparison with the Pedantic spells Grey had taught him revealed little. ¡®If only I had a book.¡¯ But this was no time for books. He made a few additional notes here and there before setting it back. As far as Boris knew, these notes were his only reliable hope at finding a way back to his world. Killing the demon lord was not feasible, and he hoped to find a different, simpler way. The second set that he pulled was a bit more practical. It contained a few recipes he had learnt from Diana and how he had experimented with them. He made a mention of successes and failures, trying to put a reason on it. It didn¡¯t go too far. As it was, Diana had taught him little of alchemy, she did not want him creating deadly recipes. She also said that higher alchemy needed a better understanding of magic, something he lacked. Boris stuffed both rolls back into his belongings, taking due care they were not harmed. Then he turned to make sure Diana was not behind him. Usually by this time, he would start messing with some alchemical recipes but he was late today. So he skipped to the last of his routine. Boris grasped a stone in both hands and turned to his exercise. He sat with his legs crossed over and his hands within his lap. It looked like meditation, but that was half a charade. Breathing softly, he tried to relax his body while feeling for his mana tree. It had branched again today. Ever since the first day when he felt it change, he had continued to exert upon it at night. It was extremely painful at first but he kept exerting it to the point of near collapse. It could have been deadly but Boris could not think of any other way. After long bouts of discussions with Diana, during the training, he had found she knew no cure for ineptitude. The only thing she ventured to guess was that some very vague legends described of it being cured by lethally enormous magic or accident, if the victim ever survived. But she said that no such method was actually feasible, or even worth it. So Boris decided to push on with brute force. He felt for the enormous mana tree, empty and hollow, and squeezed at it. He felt a few new branches sprout out even as the pain flared. It was familiar, invasive pain. But over a period of doing this, his body was getting used to it. His heart did not cringe, only quivered. His mind did not shudder, only wobbled. His arms and legs felt a lesser degree of pain. The stones he had grasped helped lessen the pain. But he still sweated profusely, much more than when he ran. Boris kept squeezing at it, forcing small increments. Hoping, willing, craving it to change. The pain increased every moment, making his skin shiver and his hands sweat. He pushed on. ¡®A little more,¡¯ he told himself every day. His mana tree was expanding, encroaching upon his body in millions of branches and roots. But it never yielded, not even today. What use was a tree that bore no fruit? Boris felt the repetitive pang of frustration as he pressed harder. His hands and arms contracted strongly, bringing forth the first of cramps. He felt them spasm and lose their sensation. Then he heard a sound, a loud crack as if his bones had broken. He peered down in fear, hoping he did not just break both his hands in foolishness. Diana would be furious. ¡°What was that?¡± Diana suddenly appeared before him. ¡°Nothing,¡± Boris replied reflexively as he hid his hands behind him. A few more cracks emerged noiselessly as the stones crumbled to pieces on the ground. ¡°Nothing at all,¡± Boris smiled deceptively. Diana might have read his face but she didn¡¯t bother. She left telling him to be careful. Thoughts stormed his mind as Boris looked back at the crumbled remains of both stones. ¡®What if I was wrong? What if I could find a different use?¡¯ Time would surely tell. And he would be dedicating all the time tonight. ___________________ 11. Hints of darkness Squeezed out a chap. There was a plan to add another segment but I don''t have time. ch 10 has been completed. About a few queries 1- the dream> I would suggest not to take the dream at face value. It has its significance but it is a dream after all. Things can change. 2- yin-yang, chi etc.> I have no plans for yang yet. Chi in this world is a mixture of Will and mana. So there you have it. 3- as for Boris being weak, see my rant in suggestions thread. Also, I plan to edit out ch 4-last if/when I get time. Any comments/questions are welcome. I would also like a (short) name for the technique Boris is using in this chap. Thanks... ______________ 11. Hints of darkness Diana breathed the cold air with satisfaction. Winter was here, it was time to conclude things. Things were going well. The boy had shown considerable improvement. He was sensitive to the surroundings and had demonstrated a striking resistance to her Will. Diana had to keep increasing her killing intent everyday to subdue him. Her own search had also paid off. Ever since the incident of Jinor, Diana was suspicious of the involvement of less savory individuals. She had scouted while she travelled across the forest and discovered a weak trail of weapons, some of which she had salvaged. It indicated the involvement of bandits. And from the few corpses she discovered intermittently, something rather sinister was going on. Sikata had also expressed his worries at the same time. It was highly probable that these same people had collapsed the Turtleback nest and killed the scout, directing attention elsewhere. Diana disliked it when someone desecrated the forests. They were high in Elven regard. She also didn¡¯t like loose ends. She had pursued the matter deep and only yesterday known of their lair. Wards and camouflages sat upon it. A few sentries too. She returned to spend part of the night in preparation, revising a few strategies while sharpening her weapons. She still hadn¡¯t decided whether to bring Boris along. Even with his progress, the boy could prove a hindrance to her and a danger to himself. She shook her head lightly as she approached the sleeping Boris. ¡®I will see how he does today before deciding.¡¯ Boris abandoned his sleep sharply as Diana approached. He clambered to his feet, throwing away the blanket to stand full attention. It was a reflexive maneuver. Blinking his eyes a few times in the grey light, he brushed the drowsiness away. It was too early a morning. ¡°Is there a situation?¡± he asked Diana curiously, ¡°I still have some time to sleep.¡± ¡°I have decided,¡± Diana replied, ¡°it¡¯s time for your initiation test. Eat and prepare yourself. Then we begin.¡± Boris swapped his loose robes for proper attire as Diana left. A leather jacket over long sleeved tunic and a wide belt over thick pants. He cleaned up fast. Then equipped the usual weapons and promptly went to hunt, returning within minutes with the first rabbit he found. It would be enough for now, and he could always hunt more later. He skinned and cooked it himself. Diana did not look hungry and she wouldn¡¯t cook just for him. He gulped down the bland meal in his own thoughts. ¡°So,¡± he finally asked Diana, ¡°what does this test entail?¡± ¡°This is the initiation test. If you pass it, you can call yourself a disciple of Diana Silverdeen, a rare honor.¡± ¡°Really,¡± Boris asked with feigned interest, honor was not much use to him. ¡°How do I pass?¡± he enquired nonetheless, because he could not refuse. ¡°You need to land one successful hit, capable of killing me. Not that you can possibly kill me, but you must convey the intent and ability to do so. Surely you understand what I mean by that?¡± Diana elaborated. It was a difficult condition. ¡°What can I use?¡± ¡°Anything you want, arrows, stones, or even your distracting contraptions. Keep in mind though, if you use weapons so will I. I would advise you to stick to your fists.¡± Diana offered serious advice. ¡°That¡¯s what I intend to do,¡± Boris accepted. He had a hidden card now, and he was dying to use it. His fist pulsed slightly as he squeezed at the mana vessels there, supporting his thoughts. Boris walked into the open clearing once again. He had changed back into loose clothing, a sash over his tunic and pants. He took the free form before Diana. She nodded, ¡°Come.¡± The air whirred as Boris shifted into diversion, trying to attack her blind point. His fists tore through empty air and he found himself flung back immediately. A sharp blow to his forehead and a flawless throw had merged. Diana had shifted into spiral. Boris spun back and skidded to his feet while Diana rushed at him. He felt a momentary shock as he regained. The air shivered and he dodged Diana¡¯s kick, shifting to his left. Diana spun towards him, a palm thrust aimed at his abdomen. He caught her arm midway with his right, trying to twist it into a throw. She bent it away, turning the thrust into an elbow blow. Boris deflected it with his left, his right arm now free to push her shoulder down. She bent and swept her legs below him. He jumped to direct his knee at her face and was thrown again. He landed on threes, his left arm held forward in defense while his right pushed him aloft again. A moment of calm ushered in while Diana waited. Boris stood up cautiously and stooped low. This was it. He decided he would use it now. His mana tree or whatever it was. Boris exerted upon the mana vessels in his feet. His heart thudded, his feet cringed and a burst of strength emerged as he pushed against the ground. Boris spurted fast, prompting a slight surprise from Diana. He broke into her guard and thrust his palm in. Diana recovered sharply, deflecting his thrust while directing a blow at his abdomen. Boris gripped her arm as he exerted his left hand, it cramped tight around hers. He felt his heart pump harder as he spun slightly, directing Diana¡¯s right arm over his left shoulder. Stepping in, he squeezed his vessels harder. His shoulder deflected Diana¡¯s left arm and she showed the first opening ever. Her chest, unguarded. Boris twisted, shifting into inversion. His palm spun outwards into an audible thrust at her sternum. A vital point, one of the only nine points that could ensure death. He squeezed the vessels in his arms as his palm met Diana¡¯s chest. A burst of power surged into a small boom that erupted. Boris was flung back at the same time as Diana. Her kick had caught him the same moment his thrust caught her. He had been too engrossed to notice and landed awkwardly on his back. Diana landed awkwardly herself, skidding back to gain balance. ¡°That- huff- was-huff- a killing strike,¡± Boris panted victoriously from his position. His heart was thudding madly and his body sweated beyond normal. But there was joy in his voice, and a great sense of accomplishment. His mana tree was not useless, it just had other uses. ¡°How did you do that?¡± Diana enquired, walking over to him, ¡°That was a surprise.¡± She helped Boris up as he placed another hand on his chest, calming it down. ¡°My mana vessels, when I exert on them my muscles squirm and heart bursts. So I thought¡ª ¡°You overstrained your heart and muscles,¡± Diana cut in, ¡°relying on them for momentary bursts of power.¡± Boris nodded. Diana looked down sharply, ¡°Smart. That was quite some strength. However, you do understand the risk it carries, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t use it for long durations, and it leaves me over exhausted,¡± Boris answered. ¡°And it can kill you,¡± Diana added simply, pondering a little to add, ¡°But it is a good weapon, especially for you. Develop your physique and it will be capable to enduring the most of overexertion while adding to your strength. Never use it too long or too often, for now.¡± Boris pondered her words, devising a few ways to realize his newfound power. ¡°I did pass right?¡± he asked finally. ¡°Yes you did. Congratulations, you can now formally call yourself my disciple.¡± ¡°And what was I till now?¡± Boris added dryly. ¡°My experimental toy,¡± Diana replied with the subtlest of sarcasm. ¡°Very well,¡± he sighed, ¡°what next, master?¡± ¡°That depends,¡± Diana replied, looking towards the east, ¡°you can either accompany me or you can have¡ª ¡°I am coming with you.¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± Diana asked with her arms across her chest, ¡°I was about to give you a day of rest.¡± ¡°No. I would like to come. I want to see where you were gone all these evenings, while I was being chased by fimberhounds.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Diana decided, ¡°Pack up your gear, we need to pay some bandits a visit.¡± ¡°Bandits?¡± Boris asked. They were inside the Laur forest. There was no civilization for miles and nothing worth looting. This was the wrong place for bandits. ¡°Hurry up. We don¡¯t have time.¡± ______________ (Two weeks ago) The bandits¡¯ fortress was a ruin, a mess of patched up walls and fallen towers. Mounds of dirt sat on most of the structures and added to the image of dilapidation. Makeshift palisadings of spiked wood and interspersed iron barbs stood as defense. Smaller shacks had been erected near the outer walls. Straw padded cushions with small fire mounds for guards. The guards were dead, a bloodied arrow stuck in their vitals. Claire had been growing more accurate with her arrows. Ray examined the last of guards, making sure he was dead before proceeding into the fortress. ¡°Claire,¡± he hissed behind her, ¡°any sign of other bandits?¡± Claire raised a finger to her lips and gestured for the others to take cover. She sat down and engaged ranging, sweeping for nearby enemies. There were six, remarkably less than expected. She raised a suspicious eyebrow. Was this a trap? ¡°Claire?¡± ¡°There are three to the right, one on left, one over that tower and the other hiding behind the bridge.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Ray answered, ¡°I¡¯ll take the three to the right, Sylvia takes the one on left, and Claire takes the two at range. Violet, hmm, support us.¡± ¡°We should take them one at a time.¡± Sylvia did not like Ray¡¯s proposition much. Ray had started taking greater risks, killing more foes by himself. ¡°No,¡± Ray decided, ¡°we take them all by surprise.¡± He rushed out to the right, giving them little chance to deny. An arrow drifted into the tilted tower window, killing the first one before Ray could pull out his sword. Ray ambushed the three bandits, each carrying a heavy sword, with a roar. His sword swept in slash the first one and he continued arc towards the second who could barely guard, toppling him unconscious. ¡°You bastards!¡± the third one growled. His cruel face twisted in anger as he drew his broadsword. It ignited in flames, ready to burn while slashing. Towards the left, Sylvia had already shocked a bandit by showering him with lightning. He collapsed to the ground as an arrow swished past her towards the bridge. The arrow embedded itself into the railing and exploded into flames, exposing the bandit in hiding. The bandit emerged, growling out his vengeance as another arrow found his forehead. Claire went around swiftly killing every guard on watch, before an alarm could be raised. The swords clanged as Ray clashed with the bandit holding a flaming sword. His opponent had a massive built and used augmentation to repel his blows, making it difficult. He clad his own sword with wind magic, creating gashes of air in opposition. An opening emerged as the opponent jumped sideways. Ray followed eagerly, trying to finish him mid air. His feet froze however, caught by the bandit who was supposed to be unconscious. Ray glowered at the momentary distraction, swinging his sword down upon the culprit who broke away instantly. It was the moment Ray was left open, and the flaming sword came for him viciously. Wind exploded before Ray could uphold his shield, throwing away the bandits in shock. They collapsed hard against the ground. ¡°Thanks,¡± Ray glanced back at Violet who held her staff aloft, air billowing from it. They rounded up a few more bandits inside, and tied them up for interrogation. Sadly, there was nothing like mind-reading magic in this world. There were a total of twelve bandits in the outer fortress. A paltry number. An alarming one. The interrogation revealed little. They were too afraid. Two of them even committed suicide by biting their tongues. It was a gruesome act. ¡°There are too few of them,¡± Violet spoke, ¡°where are the rest?¡± ¡°Probably waiting inside,¡± Ray replied, ¡°They have yet to realize we are here.¡± ¡°This is a trap,¡± Sylvia opinioned, ¡°we cannot go in.¡± ¡°They have hostages Sylvia. How do you propose we save them now?¡± Claire asked. ¡°We were supposed to infiltrate quietly and I think we have already raised an alarm. We need to retreat, frame up a new plan,¡± Sylvia remarked with concern. ¡°It is too late for that. If they know, then the hostages are dead. But I found no sign of alarm, we dispatched them fairly fast and I took out all those on watch. We need to get in before they discover the corpses and raise an alarm,¡± Claire told her. They looked at each other and nodded. They sneaked in. The corridors were dusty and webs covered half the corners and walls, creating pockets of cover crawling with spiders and insects. The main routes had been cleared and were manned by bandits, each lying down leisurely against his chair. The heroes crept behind pillars and walls, silently dispatching away the foes. Claire took out most of them easily. There was no alarm raised while the whole fortress was scouted out. By the time the first corpse was discovered, every bandit on the ground floor and above was either dead or in custody. There was just one problem. There were no hostages here. No prisons either. ¡°Where are they keeping the prisoners?¡± Ray was confused. ¡°Below the ground,¡± Claire replied. She shifted a slab in the pedestal that supported a flame tower. A soft rumble emerged as the pedestal tilted, revealing a curved flight of stone stairs. She smiled confidently as she stepped in, scanning for enemies. Then she poked her head out, ¡°It should be safe down the stairs. What do we do?¡± ¡°I think one of us should stand watch,¡± Sylvia spoke. ¡°I searched every crevice of this wreck Sylvia, there is no other threat. The only thing you would need to watch against would be ghosts.¡± ¡°Or traps,¡± Violet add. ¡°I searched for traps,¡± Claire reminded them with much chagrin. ¡°You searched for the traps above,¡± Violet countered, ¡°If there are any below that trap you in, we will need someone outside to help.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Ray conceded, ¡°Violet, you will stand guard here. Sylvia will send up a flare if we need help, or if it takes too long, seek us yourself.¡± The descended quietly down the stairs and into a small, scraggly chamber that emptied into a poorly lit corridor. There were few flickering torches along the sides and doors to prison cells stood in between. Claire detected no signs of life beyond the door, creeping softly through the shadows. There was large wooden door at the end. Iron bolts and chains fastened across it and two heavily armored bandit guards stood on each side. Claire motioned towards them. A blast of air pummeled them against the walls, Sylvia holding her staff towards them in offence. Ray took advantage of their surprise and darted in. His sword found purchase through the gaps in their armor, killing them before they could retaliate. He stooped down to confirm their deaths as Claire pressed against the door, using ranging to detect for signs of life. There were thirty-four people inside, some short and some taller ones. She could not detect much more, unless she opened the door. ¡°What is it?¡± Ray asked her. ¡°There are a good thirty-four people inside. Too many by my count. Now either we have a whole lot more hostages or we have an ambush mixed within,¡± she warned. An ambush was unlikely though. The door was locked firmly and guarded well. There should have been prisoners inside. ¡°There is only one way to find out,¡± Ray responded. He augmented strength and bashed the door open, tearing its wooden splinters against metal restraints. The door creaked, then fell in dramatically, revealing a dark, dank dungeon with little to no light. Sylvia lit up a bright fireball, casting a circle of light around them. Dark, curious figures emerged into the light, their eyes were hidden by the shadows but their features were inhuman. Some were weak, scraggly with long hair and disproportionate arms. Some were large, fat and had bald heads and proganthic jaws. Some looked to be in between. There was moment of shocked silence. ¡°What are they?¡± Ray asked. ¡°Demons!¡± Sylvia exclaimed as loud angry roars erupted. Chaos burst as the demons scrambled across the room, each howling their own twisted screams. ¡°Retreat! We need a healer!¡± Ray shouted at his companions. They obeyed gladly, running back as each of them fired a shot into the crowd. A few bows pierced the shorter ones and bolts of lightning crashed against the larger monsters. The demons advanced without regard. More cries and roars resounded. ¡°Goddammit! Where are the hostages?!¡± Ray growled as he activated a shielding barrier, preventing the demons from getting too close. The corridor lit up with random blasts of fire and lighting. The demons smacked against the shield shouting as they tried to kill him. Some of them blew up gales of air from their mouths, making moats of dust and fragments of stone crumble into the passage. ¡°Get back faster! It will collapse!¡± They found comfortable ground on the stairs. Claire felled the demons from above as Sylvia froze the stairs, ice restraining the legs of some demons while others cut through it. Ray slashed at those advancing, while shouting for Violet at the top of his voice. He could no longer support the barrier shield. He received wounds on his arms and flanks. Sharp claws had torn through the leather armor he wore, wind magic overwhelming the defensive enchantments. Violet had already received a message when Sylvia had sent a flare through the stairs. She was descending the stairs rapidly, a spell already prepared in advance. Surprise took its toll on her though. The heroes were fighting a horde of demons. Goblins and orcs filled with raging blood thirst pounced upon them. ¡®Where did they come from?¡¯ she found no time to ponder. She healed Ray while considering the situation. This was a disaster. They could not allow the demons to escape outside. Violet prepared a large-scale spell while the others held the demons back. ¡°Get back,¡± she cautioned heavily as she let the spell loose. The stairs collapsed, beginning from the lowest rung upon the ground and crumpling away like a landslide. The heroes climbed faster, leaving the demons to fate. Ray shut the pedestal back heavily, closing the entrance to the stairway. They waited a while, ready for any demon to spring the pedestal back. None came. A heavy gasp escaped each of their lips as they slumped. A loud rumble followed, possibly the result of the whole underground collapsing. Everyone looked to everyone else with worry and shock. There were questions on every mind. How did the demons infiltrate this far inland? Where did they come from? What did the bandits have to do with this? And where exactly were the hostages? The plan was a wreck. ______________ (Current time) It was a long and tedious trek. With each mile east, the forest grew denser, harsher and colder. Boris almost expected it to freeze over as they continued. The cold however, was not an issue. Not if you spent hours thrashing about in horrid, cold rapids every day. The density was. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Boris was not very good with darkness. His nose and ears roamed about the shadowed regions, trying to pick up hostile monsters. Every so often, a bright slab of sunlight would blind him abruptly, leaving his vision spotty. He scrunched his eyes, shading them under his hands to get a little of the view. Diana brushed his hands away. ¡°What?¡± Boris asked. ¡°Learn to rely more on your other senses, as if you were hunting. People often trust their sight more than they should.¡± Boris realized what she meant. From what he had experienced, especially after seeing illusory magic, it was no doubt he needed other senses. And he had developed sharp senses. He just needed to put them to better use. He exhaled softly against the air, stepping cautiously among the mounds of grass. His ears scanned for the rustles and noises. His nose tried to pick up the scents mixed within the air. Winter decay overwhelmed a few ripe fruits that had escaped the fall. A few kiris ant mounds here and there drafted the familiar air with sharp acidic smell. Boris directed his eyes away, only paying attention to other senses. It felt slightly different now. As if his eyes were freed for simpler tasks. There was faint chirping of birds in the distance and a few cries of critters among the trees ahead. But there was nothing else. He brushed aside another blade of grass softly, eagerly following Diana¡¯s footsteps. They were quiet, phantom brushes of her shoes upon rough ground. She left no traces at all, something Boris had always marveled. No matter how much he tried to hide his own trail the fimberhounds had always found him. Boris tried to imitate her way of stepping through grass. The almost dainty way she slipped through made her seem ghostly. ¡°There is a trick to this,¡± Diana replied after seeing Boris hawking at her steps, ¡°on hard ground you find small exposed footholds and balance on your toes. On softer ground, seek wider footholds and spread the weight. Try to tread close to the roots but never step over them. Keep your body relaxed at all times and avoid jumping through obstacles.¡± ¡°I already tried most of that, it¡¯s not that simple,¡± Boris replied from his own point. ¡°No you didn¡¯t.¡± Diana replied while slipping through the foliage, ¡°The biggest issue here is balance. I will teach you about that in due time.¡± Boris crept away behind her, turning his attention back to the surroundings. They were strangely silent, the liveliness subdued by an undercurrent of fear. It was fear that radiated over the breeze and prickled his skin cold. There were no larger animals nearby. No hounds, no wolves, no bears¡ªWait, bears would be hibernating. Regardless, no predators and no monsters. The few squirrels and lizards scurried away long before Boris could reach them. He felt a hint of caution in their actions, driven by the all too familiar sense of fear. ¡®Strange? No.¡¯ ¡°You are driving them away!¡± Boris realized as he pointed to Diana. Diana raised an eyebrow in question. ¡°The monsters and animals, you are making them feel afraid and uneasy. It is exactly the opposite of what you did to the fimberhounds.¡± Boris gesticulated. ¡°What makes you think that?¡± Diana asked curiously. ¡°I can feel it clearly. It is similar to how you release that massive killing intent every time you attack. Is this how an empathizer works?¡± Boris asked curiously. ¡°That, is a good observation,¡± Diana replied as they passed through the thicket of trees. A stretch of brook emerged between them. The soil smelled wet and tantalizing, and the shrubs became fresh and bright. A slim, soft stream of water cascaded over rocks in a transparent sparkle. Boris hid his eyes in the glaring open light. ¡°Let us a take a small break here.¡± Diana said. Boris immediately laid down his knapsack and stripped off his tunic and jacket. He approached the shore, ready to jump in. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Diana stopped him just before he took the plunge. ¡°Breathing exercises,¡± Boris replied innocently, ¡°Isn¡¯t that why you stopped here?¡± There was soft chortle that Boris could not understand. ¡°No,¡± Diana spoke in amusement, ¡°when I said a break, I meant a break.¡± She perched on the soft grassy slope that led to the shore and tapped the ground beside her. ¡°Come, sit here,¡± she gestured to Boris. Boris re-dressed and sat down stiffly beside her, alert to the surroundings. In his mind, there were only three reasons for a break. To hunt, to eat or to rest. And he didn¡¯t need any of them right now. ¡°Why are we taking a break?¡± he asked in partial surprise. ¡°We are waiting.¡± ¡°For whom?¡± Boris was even more curious now. ¡°You will see. For now, don¡¯t you want to know about empathy?¡± ¡°Oh, sure I do.¡± His ears perked up as Diana offered to teach him about the curious magic. ¡°Do you remember what I said about elves and arcane magic?¡± Diana asked as she peered into the sky. Cold breeze brushed across her face, lapping a few golden strands of hair against her cheeks. ¡°That it lies in your blood?¡± Boris remembered. ¡°Right. Now, you are always poking into arcane magic and theories so tell me this: what separates arcane magic from others?¡± Boris made a confused expression at the seemingly bland question. ¡°That it is¡­ arcane? As in we don¡¯t really know how it works but it works, as in some confusing jumble of chants that just makes magic happen.¡± ¡°Not wrong,¡± Diana answered, ¡°but hardly correct. You know, arcane magic is not some mysterious cure all solution. It is not even that elusive or amazing, not all of it I mean¡­ We stole arcane magic from lost civilizations and tried to adapt it in. Some of it proved amazing, some of it was dreadful and some was purely useless. There are needlessly complicated arcane spells for simple tasks that can be achieved by basic magic or small cantrips.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I mean that arcane magic is just something that was devised by lost generations. We can chant their spells but we have little idea what sense they convey. And just like every other magic, it has its own peculiarities and problems. It is not all powerful, there are just places where it works better.¡± ¡°It can summon people from a different world, Diana. I don¡¯t know how much more powerful you want it to be.¡± ¡°There are restrictions,¡± Diana explained, ¡°the alignment of stars, the completion of cycles, the runes, the base components¡­ it needs a lot of preparations.¡± ¡°You know about summoning magic?!¡± Boris asked in astonishment. The ritual for summoning heroes was a closely guarded secret of Cumaria. Violet had even told him that no other nation, not even Sumaria, possessed the ritual in full detail. ¡°I know about common summoning magic,¡± Diana clarified, ¡°It is very different from what summoned you. Even then, summoning something large or something living requires a lot. Anyway, that was not the issue I wanted to discuss. I wanted to discuss about the singularity that arcane magic possesses.¡± Boris shuffled his thoughts about summoning magic to the background, paying attention to Diana¡¯s lecture. ¡°And what is that? What makes arcane magic singularly different?¡± ¡°The Will,¡± Diana impressed, ¡°the Will of the caster. No other magic takes in the Will of a mage into account.¡± ¡°What the heck is that?¡± ¡°It is what you experienced, the killing intent, the fear, the dread. It is an expression of desires and thoughts strong enough to influence the world outside. The elves are blessed with a strong Will. It is the boon of fairies. That is what I mean when I say arcane magic dwells in our blood. That is also what makes me an empathizer. I can feel the Will of others and soothe or threaten them with my own.¡± Boris plunged headfirst into this revelation, trying to piece it together. The Will was something that could influence the world outside by mere desire. What Diana had said essentially meant that there were two components to drive arcane magic¡ªthe Will and the mana. It added a completely new dimension to arcane magic. This was why arcane magic was so difficult to understand. It differed from person to person, to what they willed of it. But then he had never heard Violet speak about the Will. The books never mentioned it either. ¡®Could it be?¡¯ ¡°Is this an Elven secret?¡± Boris asked Diana. ¡°Hardly,¡± she replied, ¡°the other races are just too ignorant to realize it. As far as I know, only those despicable pixars know of this well enough.¡± Her voice seemed to turn dark as she spoke. Boris did not probe into the matter of pixars. He was interested in something else. ¡°Then,¡± he asked, ¡°do I have a Will as well?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Diana replied, ¡°every person has one. It is just that elves are particularly blessed in this regard. Your own is plenty strong though, few people can oppose my Will like you do.¡± This was a pleasant surprise. If he had a Will, Boris could probably give off killing intent like Diana. It was formidable, he could have others cowering in fear or tame monsters. This was something that he needed to train. His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he felt a few monsters approaching. Most monsters, unlike animals, had a slightly more dangerous aura to them. Boris had become keen on this sense over time. The ones approaching felt more dangerous than ever. He stood up vigilantly, placing a hand upon his bow. ¡°Stand down,¡± Diana put a hand on his shoulder, ¡°they are not a threat.¡± The trees shook and three of them emerged, strolling leisurely towards him. Boris watched agape as the one in front walked up to him, lowered its snout to smell him suspiciously and turned to face Diana. ¡®A human kid?¡¯ a voice resonated crudely through the air, barely making sense. ¡°It speaks?!¡± Boris exclaimed wildly, prompting a glare from both Diana and the wolf. He lowered his pointed fingers politely while turning inquisitive eyes on the monster. It was almost seven feet tall and heavy, sturdily built. Grey metallic fur coursed smoothly over its body taking a grizzled look over the ears, the eyes and the tail. Sharp brown eyes rested within grey sclera and a regal snout emerged between them. A small crescent like birthmark in black sat upon its forehead, glowing faintly. ¡®Yes, I speak. Rude as always, you humans,¡¯ the wolf spoke in gruff masculine voice. His voice seemed clearer, more coherent with every word. ¡°I apologize,¡± Boris answered, ¡°I have never witnessed something like you¡­ uh, um, do you have a name?¡± He could feel the monster annoyed, but not hostile, unlike the fang rabbits and the screechwings. ¡®My name is Sikata,¡¯ the voice resonated harshly, ¡®I am a spirit guardian of this forest.¡¯ He turned to Boris stiffly, eyes rooting him down. Boris watched him curiously, feeling a hint of pressure that he felt from Diana. He guessed that this was the Will. ¡°Well,¡± Boris coughed, ¡°nice to meet you Sikata. I am Boris Debron, Diana¡¯s disciple.¡± He extended his hand in a friendly gesture then realized he could not possibly shake hands with a wolf. He looked at Sikata¡¯s paws and found them a bit too large and deadly. So he silently settled for a small nod of his head. Sikata did not acknowledge him and turned to Diana. ¡®Child of the fairies, you have brought a particularly annoying one,¡¯ he grumbled. ¡°He is interesting isn¡¯t he? How many humans could withstand your Will, much less talk to you?¡± Diana talked with frivolity. Sikata grumbled a little and this time, a real growl emerged from his exposed canines. The two smaller wolves behind him came forward. They were as large as the fimberhounds but looked puny in comparison to Sikata. Boris could now feel their hostility clearly. He tensed his body in reflex. ¡°Stop,¡± Diana warned him, ¡°They are silverpelts, you cannot take them on.¡± ¡®They are silverpelts?¡¯ Boris could not help but curse the knowledge of humans. Silverpelts were supposed to be white and smaller than this. This world had a skewed sense of size, often hanging on the larger side. ¡°The ones most people observe,¡± Diana clarified for him, ¡°are the weaker ones that meander away during the snowfalls. Thus the misconception.¡± She stood up to face Sikata, her eyes now looking down on his. ¡°He comes with me. You asked a favor, you should bear with it.¡± ¡®Alright,¡¯ Sikata harrumphed as the two wolves receded back. ¡°Boris, try not to cross him,¡± Diana ordered, ¡°he is like a king of the forest and our safest method to reach the destination. He does not like the humans much.¡± ¡°You could have told me beforehand,¡± Boris replied. ¡°Learn to deal with surprises kid, it helps in survival.¡± Diana blurted. Boris swallowed the words with cynicism. Everything was surprise these days. ¡°So, where are we going now?¡± ¡®East,¡¯ Sikata replied, ¡®near the foothills.¡¯ _______________ (Two weeks ago) The sky had turned sordid gray, smoke ruining the serenity of blue with a botched curtain of shoddy black. It smelled disgusting, repugnant. But the flames liked it, licking through the remains of charred buildings with wicked tenacity. They whirled as people shrieked and scrambled. Cries of help resounded, breaking the morbid silence that dominated the skies. Monsters skittered through the remains, creating havoc. Showers of water fell here and there, fighting a reckless war. The flames would still creep up and down, finding purchase in petty remains of straw and logs. Tabin was burning, and everything had backfired. ¡°Ray!¡± Claire cried as she shot down a bandit that was about to stun him, a flaming arrow piercing through his chest. ¡°Get a hold of yourself! We need to stop this before it gets worse.¡± ¡®We made it worse.¡¯ Ray realized in a daze. ¡®We made it worse!¡¯ A loud slap resounded across his face, throwing him awake. Sylvia stood sternly before him. Sweat dripped from her brow from exhaustion. She had been firing spells left and right, trying to get rid of the monsters and bandits tearing away at the town. ¡°We need to take responsibility Ray! We need to clean up this mess! And we need you,¡± she spoke as she fired a spell of wind, blowing away a collapsing pillar before it could kill a child. She darted in towards the girl and threw a thick blanket over her. ¡°Run north child, and keep away from the fire.¡± The monsters and bandits had yet to cross into the northern part of the village¡¯s safety. Violet had been restraining the fire hard and some volunteers had been helping. There were very few guards and even fewer were alive. Ray hefted his sword heavily, swallowing his guilt and despair to plunge into the fray. There were hardly two dozen bandits here, but they had proved ruthless beyond measure. When Ray and party had returned from the fortress they found the village burning. A shocking sight. Violet had immediately run inside to help and screamed curses. Giant turtlebacks and fang-rats plagued the residents. Each of these monsters had an ominous spiked collar around their necks. Sylvia took these on with her spells when new enemies had emerged. A small band of bandits had started killing people left and right. This was probably a surprise attempt at vengeance. And ironically, it had coincided with the surprise assault the heroes had launched on the fortress. ¡°Claire!¡± Ray shouted as he spotted a large Scythian in their midst, probably the boss, ¡°Cover me.¡± He augmented strength and pushed hard against the ground. The maneuver flung him straight at the scythian. Ray roared as he clashed his sword against the Scythian. The Scythian braced the impact well, pushing his sword aside. Ray bashed his shield at another nearby bandit, sending him sprawling in surprise. The Scythian looked him up and down for slight moment, sneering at his face, ¡°Are you the leader of heroes?¡± Ray answered him with his sword, dashing straight and thrusting into his chest. The Scythian parried his thrust with a huge claymore. ¡°Know this brat, you don¡¯t mess with Sodor,¡± he spoke in a wicked laugh. Ray augmented strength again, pummeling his shield into Sodor, pushing him back for a spinning slash. He spun as the Scythian brought his claymore back, clanging it loudly against Ray¡¯s slash. Sparks emerged in a screech as both were pushed back a little. Sodor narrowed his eyes at the boy who looked too weak for that much strength. Then he laughed hysterically, ¡°Let me show you the real augmentation.¡± The tattoo on his neck pulsed heavily, sending rippling waves across his body. His muscles bulged, clothes pulling taut against his chest and thighs, as he almost increased in size. ¡°This,¡± he roared, ¡°is real augmentation.¡± Ray grimaced. Strength against strength was a bad match, the opponent seemed much stronger than usual. He readied his own sword with a large cast of wind magic. His remaining mana would barely support this for an hour at most, if he did not use the any other magic. But he needed this. He swung fast, rapid strikes against Sodor¡¯s onslaught of slow, heavy blows. A few caught Sodor with an increased range, slicing small gashes up his rippled body. Ray dodged Sodor¡¯s blows well, but his own blows were dealing little damage. Behind him, Claire deterred the other bandits from getting close. She shot rapid, imprecise arrows, harming one or two occasionally. Ray circled Sodor, attacking from different angles as he dodged. His shield parried the claymore in practiced strokes and his longsword emerged in stabbing motions. Sodor hacked against his legs and he dodged, stabbing against his neck. Sodor shifted as the stab scraped against his own shoulder guards, drawing a line of blood. He swiped his claymore vertically up and Ray retreated, spinning back to stab at him from the side. The longsword¡¯s thrust was received with the claymore¡¯s pommel, driving it away. Ray bashed his shield against the hilt, preventing a slash from Sodor. He shifted in, trying to stab the enemy¡¯s flank while Sodor pushed his elbow in guard. The wind cut through his guard and Ray marched further, twisting the sword to aim at his abdomen. Sodor let go of the claymore, receiving Ray¡¯s blow full force. His armor yielded and the longsword pierced, drawing fresh blood. The muscles turned taut and restrained the longsword, creating an opening. A huge force pummeled at Ray, whose half-raised shield dented, and sent him ground borne in a loud howl. His elbow was broken and his face distorted in pain. He pulled his sword free as Sodor prepared to smash him. They roared at each other, eager to kill. Then Sodor twitched, his teeth gritted and eyes grew wide as he fell. An arrow was stuck below his occiput, shelved deep enough to kill. Claire smiled satisfactorily behind him, launching another flaming arrow to kill the last remaining bandit. ¡°Is it over?¡± Violet came running onto them, gasping when she saw bruises and wounds littered over their bodies. The fire had been doused and corpses lay littered about the ground. Monsters, bandits and villagers, death did not discriminate. ¡°Is it?¡± Ray asked as he ran his sight about. Black tarred remains of houses and belongings, collapsed walls and scarred floors. All marred by the disaster he could not repel. Children wailed and adults shrieked in the distance. This was the same village that celebrated their arrival with a feast, honored them and fed them. Now it wept in loss. ¡°Have I failed my duty?¡± he asked himself. ¡°That is yet to be seen,¡± Violet answered for him. There was a lot of work to be done. The village needed help. The kingdom needed an urgent report about demons. And they needed some rest. _________________________ 12. A Weakling鈥檚 Will A second overnight chap, goodnight ppl ___________ 12. A Weakling¡¯s Will Safety was a relative term. For a sinking man, it meant the land. For a suffocating fish, it meant the water. Even so, Boris decided that he would lay some ground rules for the term. Maybe even write a tome discussing the application and limitations of the word. If he emerged safe, that is. Diana¡¯s ¡°safest¡± route led onward precariously, throttling his sense of excitement with apprehension. He gripped Sikata firmly around the neck, stooping forward in balance. The forest warped before his eyes, trees twisting and turning at awkward angles as Sikata rushed between them. He felt the air whip across his clothes, threatening to pull them apart. He felt the ground swirl and swoosh, disorienting his direction. And Sikata sprinted with a pace abrupt and unpredictable. Everything felt hostile, ready to consume him. Stares dug into him from all sides, eager, savage and vicious. He stooped lower, sticking to the back of Sikata¡¯s head as he turned to scan the surroundings unsuccessfully. They vanished too fast, never giving him a glimpse into darkness. ¡®Do not touch my ears, human!¡¯ Sikata growled. His grizzled ears sparked as Boris drew back, hands still taut around his neck. Sikata obviously disliked Boris, evident from his growls and grudging. Diana was the only reason he had agreed to carry the boy, reluctantly. ¡®Prickly old wolf!¡¯ Boris scowled internally. Behind him, Diana sat comfortably, her eyes alert to every detail. Boris felt a bunch of intent stares as Diana stood up, knees bent just enough for balance. ¡°Whatever you do Boris, do not let go,¡± she cautioned firmly behind his neck. Boris nodded and squeezed the vessels in his hand, cramping them against Sikata¡¯s neck. He could feel other monsters close by. ¡°Dodge!¡± Diana roared as Boris felt his skin tingle, a pack of predators upon them. One shadow plunged from above as Sikata shifted sideways. It had black dense fur and sharp green eyes. Diana swiped a dagger through its extended arm, severing it in a small splash of blood and a deep echoing shriek. Then she pushed Boris down with herself, as a flaming green mass passed above them, charring the tree ahead. Boris could barely register the monster that lay behind them, dark black with seven appendages, four arms, two legs and a tail. Only six remained after Diana had severed an arm. ¡°What are they?!¡± Boris afforded a question as the monster vanished from sight. Instead, he felt a strong jerk of Sikata¡¯s turn, throwing him off to one side. Then Sikata swerved again, leaving Boris hanging by an arm, his body waving with Sikata¡¯s movements. Sweat rained down his body in danger, pulse quickening, breath shaky. A strong pull wrested him back just in time to let two smaller silverpelts dart by their side. ¡°I told you not to let go!¡± Diana warned him. He heard a curious howl from Sikata, which he interpreted as a snort. Then he saw four similar monsters up ahead, their eyes hooked upon himself. The two smaller silverpelts charged at the outlying ones, their body clad in lightning as they pounced upon and tore through the enemies. Sikata sped headlong through the fray, a blast of air resounding as his feet prickled with lightning. He let out a roar that flung the monsters dozens of meters away. Trees cracked against their bones, bark splintering, and they fell unconscious. Boris watched as Sikata continued his way unaffected. He reminded himself not to pick a bone with the spirit guardian. ¡°They are helter-skelters,¡± Diana responded once the silence regained, ¡°and they were hunting us.¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t you an empathizer? Driving away monsters, taming them and such?¡± ¡°I am an empathizer. That doesn¡¯t mean I can just break in or threaten every being of the forest. The stronger ones have a stronger Will, and are a nuisance to subdue. Why should I over strain my senses when I can take them down by easier methods,¡± Diana corrected him. ¡°And they attack us while we are being escorted by the king of the forest?¡± Boris voiced his second doubt, spurning Sikata. ¡®They are not my subjects and I am not a king. Your kings are savage dictators; I am a guardian, a protector, and not of humans,¡¯ a deep rumbling voice answered. ¡®Do not taunt me human, my tolerance runs thin.¡¯ Diana shook her head and Boris shrugged, grasping a tight hold in case Sikata decided to throw him over. ¡°How long have they been so reckless Sikata?¡± Diana diverted the issue. ¡®Not long. Argyvael has loosened his reins and they are running amok between territories,¡¯ Sikata replied as they climbed up. Rocks sprouted in the ground and vegetation thinned to a carpet. The trees still held on, their thick roots creating small mounds of softer earth littered with herbs and smaller plants. ¡®He seems to have disappeared, and these invaders have come through unwarned.¡¯ There was heavy suspicion in Sikata¡¯s voice. The Shadows of Sik looked closer now, more daunting and majestic than before. They rose into the clouds and beyond, hiding the peaks from sight. Boris traced them down as they fell, giving in to the greenery that encroached them below. Rocks and ridges all conquered by the resilient tenacity of grass, creeping ever onward with knotted trees that followed it. ¡®We are here.¡¯ Sikata came to an abrupt halt as he said so. His claws dipped into the ground with ease, shredding through the grass as he skidded. Boris jumped off before the inertia could throw him, running alongside to stop slowly. He eyed Sikata with an accusing look but the spirit guardian ignored him, turning to Diana. She dismounted comfortably. ¡°Where is the hideout?¡± Boris asked. There was no such thing visible. ¡°A mile south from here,¡± Diana replied, ¡°let us go.¡± She plucked an arrow and drew it against her bow, stepping into the wilderness. ¡°He isn¡¯t coming?¡± Boris pointed towards Sikata, while fetching his own bow out. ¡°It¡¯s not his territory anymore, Argyvael rules here. They don¡¯t like crossing each other,¡± Diana answered. ¡®That is not so,¡¯ Sikata grumbled behind her, ¡®We honor each other¡¯s territories strongly.¡¯ Diana looked at him knowingly but said nothing. Sikata let out a small disapproving growl, ¡®Consider my help a payment for the favor Diana Silverdeen. I need them removed and repentant, or you could kill them.¡¯ He turned to walk away but paused a few steps later. Peering over his shoulders, Sikata drew a sharp glare into Boris, ¡®So long human kid. I pray we never meet again.¡¯ Boris watched him disappear as suddenly as he appeared, praying the same. _______________ ¡°Who is Argyvael?¡± Boris asked as they made their way through. They had been walking for a while but avoided confrontations with most monsters. ¡°Another spirit guardian,¡± Diana answered while ranging for monsters ahead, ¡°lives higher up among the Shadows of Sik but he hunts down below in these parts.¡± She shot an arrow into a treetop, revealing a curious eight-legged monkey that screeched but ran away. ¡°Another wolf?¡± Boris asked about Argyvael, frowning to imagine more of Sikata¡¯s kind. Diana held a finger to her lips. ¡®The scent of blood,¡¯ Boris realized, the air smelled of wanton death. He scrunched his eyes to focus. The hideout was in plain sight, marked by the corpses of bandits that circled the cavernous entrance. They approached cautiously, soft somber steps and crouching stances. They stopped before the puddle of blood that was seeping into dark crevices. It was fresh blood and the wounds were clean and fatal. ¡°Someone already killed them?¡± Boris remarked bitterly at the scene. They had just journeyed through half a day of severe discomfort to find their job done. ¡°No,¡± Diana rebuffed as she used her ranging magic, ¡°someone is killing them, still inside.¡± She analyzed the corpses and the surroundings, seeking signs to identify the avenger. There were barely any, this was done by someone really skilled. Diana adopted a serious visage to ponder. ¡°Boris,¡± she turned to face him, ¡°You are waiting outside. Stand guard, you can easily deal with a few bandits of this level if they come.¡± ¡°What?!¡± he replied with frowning disbelief. ¡°You are waiting outside pup,¡± Diana impressed harshly, ¡°there might be someone far more dangerous inside and I don¡¯t need your blood on my hands.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Boris grouched, turning his face away in disappointment. ¡°Do not attempt to follow me, is that clear?¡± Diana reasserted. ¡°Very clear,¡± Boris replied robotically. ¡°And stay vigilant, if I send a signal, you abandon everything and run,¡± Diana cautioned him just in case the worst happened. ¡°Okay,¡± Boris accepted with a sigh. He curtailed the sarcasm from reaching his voice. There was no way he would abandon her here, not even if his life depended on it. He watched Diana disappear into the dark cavern and waited. He stretched his senses to the limit, trying to feel her presence. It was almost inexistent. She left neither sound nor smell when she scouted. The only thing Boris recognized was her Will. She had repressed it to a faint aura but he knew her well enough to feel it. She reeked of danger from the first time he had met her. When he could feel her no more for a time, Boris stepped in. ¡®I am not following you,¡¯ he justified, ¡®and I did wait outside.¡¯ Boris walked slowly, waiting for his eyes to get attuned to the darkness. His left hand continually touched the wall, brushing softly against its contour to find the way. He regretted not bringing a torch, there were no fire spells without Diana. He had tied up a stock of branches and lit them up. They burned haphazardly, creating more smoke than light. He didn¡¯t have much in the way of safe fuel. Boris turned his nose away and crouched in, holding the branches high. They poured a few embers on the floor, casting specks of glowing dust upon the uneven rock. Every step was a cautious attempt to feel the ground, and avoid any danger contained within. He found a few more corpses inside, observing them for anything useful. Amulets and gauntlets were useless, as were swords and shields. That curious bottle though, seemed to be useful. Boris uncorked it to peer inside and felt a strong, disorienting smell rise up. ¡°Oh shit!¡± were the words as he hurriedly corked it back and stuffed it in. But it was already taking effect, Boris felt the dizziness as he stumbled back. His back pushed hard against the wall while his arms flailed about, hitting things and places he did not know. Then the ground gave way as the wall swiveled, and a hole engulfed him. Boris fell. The scream did not emerge however, just died inside his throat. Boris found himself searching for support as he dropped through the trap, probably ending in spikes or boiling acid. His mind was still wobbling and it was difficult to find foothold. He hit his legs hard in desperation, trying to retard the fall. The shoes abraded against the tunnel with a grating noise, but his grip was weak and his body unsteady. The exit was already coming into view and his mind was rumbling idiotic measures. ¡®The walltricks!¡¯ he remembered as he fiddled with a pouch. The ball jumped from his hands as his back grazed and ached from the fall. Boris smashed his foot hard against the wall in half frustration. The kick cracked the falling ball into pieces and a dense liquid overflowed. It stuck to his legs like superglue and pulled on them, arresting his fall. Then it stretched like gum, straining to contain his weight while he toppled upside down. Boris immediately pushed both hands against the wall, grabbing a small hold before the gum tore. Then he corrected his posture slowly, his legs gaining a foothold in the tunnel and scraped the gum before it hardened solid. The walltrick was something he used to trap monsters, a mass of annoyingly sticky glue that turned solid over time. The secret ingredient to walltrick was what he called yuck. Specifically, the sourfill spiders had a cavity that was¡­ yuck! ¡®Safe!¡¯ Boris heaved satisfactorily after the effort. Taking a moment to calm his breath, he peered up the dark twisted tunnel way. ¡®No way can I climb back up all the way.¡¯ Then he looked down to find a faint light at the exit. After a moment of hesitation, he started the descent. The tunnel curved to a horizontal mouth near the exit and Boris peered out cautiously. To his surprise, there were neither spikes nor acids here, just another hollowed recess with plenty of other openings. ¡®Then where is the light coming from?¡¯ Boris scanned the recess to find a source of light in one of the openings, another tunnel that led deeper inside. He wandered in. The tunnel took a comfortable incline as it sloped downwards, the other end glowing bright and blinding. Voices were faintly audible. Boris crawled along its length in caution, his bow ready to launch an arrow. He met no resistance along the way. The voices grew louder as he advanced. There were high-pitched squeals of children and monotonous voice of someone chanting. Someone was giving orders. ¡°All eight in turns, stab the heart and let it flow.¡± Boris rushed forward as he heard that, stopping just short of the end. The end of the tunnel dropped into a large underground chamber, near the roof. Torches lit the walls and a giant flame pillar stood in the center. Opposite to him, a ledge led down crude stairs. And down below was a horrendous sight. There was blood, so much blood. And corpses. Boris felt his pulse quicken as he tried to make sense of the scene. An elevated platform with eight monoliths around it. To each was tied a haggardly child, with unkempt hair and green sickly skin. They were all dead, sleek daggers stabbed into their chest overflowed with blood. It dripped down the cruel gutters and formed a glyph on the platform. More corpses lay around, innocent people who had been killed for an abominable ritual. Most of them were humans of different ages, with a few that Boris regarded to be mixed-bloods. The stench of blood and the scene almost caused him to retch. Boris held his mouth, lest he reveal himself. His eyes fell on the glyph. A hexagram circumscribed and inscribed with circles. The runes turned blood red and encroached the center. There, he saw a last survivor. A small, weak elven child bent over in fear. Muffled screams sat on her gagged mouth and tears overflowed her red eyes. A mage in black robes set a black blade on her throat, chanting without guilt. ¡®They will kill her!¡¯ a strong anger swelled within Boris. His bow was ready. The bottle he had procured sat nearby. Dipping an arrow into the ominous liquid, he ran a scrutiny through the chamber. ¡®Fifteen people, twelve warriors, three mages.¡¯ There was panic evident on all their faces and madness dwelled in their eyes. They had yet to realize his presence, but it wouldn¡¯t be long. The first arrow would give him away in open light. If he had looked above, he would have noticed another cage. One with a large snow-white hawk inside it. However, just as the people below never noticed him, Boris never noticed the hawk. But the hawk did, with sharp, keen eyes. It stayed eerily quiet. Boris took out a few smokescreens and seedthorns, shifting them to near the edge. He poured the rest of the bottle¡¯s contents carefully over them, while cautiously pinching his nostrils closed. The poisonous liquid seeped in, accumulating inside them. ¡®I will give you a taste of your own medicine.¡¯ When he was done, he took aim at the mage who was about kill the child, calming his breathing, cooling his nerves. His hand shivered then steadied itself. His breath wavered but softened and his eyes honed in. Time stopped. Emotions died. Instinct took in. The mage now held the blade to light and spoke aloud, ¡°O Lord Solomon, by the right of servitude, grant us thy blessings! By the blood of &^(*¡ª The mage garbled his words. An arrow sat in his neck, drawing his blood before he could draw any. The raised, well-lit platform had made him an easy target. Before the shock could spread and his position realized, Boris kicked the smokescreens and seedthorns into the air. As they fell, they brought a curtain of chafing fumes and an assault of prickled thorns, laced with the poison he had found. He slung back the bow to hide a little. Screams and alerts resounded. People coughed violently in the smoke, overcome by the excoriating sensations. ¡°Curses!¡± ¡°Have they made it down already!¡± ¡°Finish the ritual!¡± ¡°Up the ledge! Hold them back!¡± Boris watched as a few bandits rushed up the stairs and through the ledge towards the opposite side. It was luck that none of them noticed him. It was even luckier that they left, he now had fewer opponents to deal with. A few more smokescreens fell into the smoke, creating more of it. Jumping off, he landed heavily on the bandit below. The bandit screamed from the force while Boris plunged an arrow through his nape, and vanished. Boris had memorized the rough location of every person in this room. The three mages were all upon the platform, one of them now hopefully dead. Four spear wielding bandits guarded them. Boris had flung the seedthorns there, hoping to get the mages with their guards. And it had paid off. No one had used wind magic to dispel the smoke. They were either dead or too dizzy with the poison. Two other bandits had stood near the wall, beside the cage with other sickly green children. One of them he had just dispatched. The three behind the flame pillar and the three near the stairs to the ledge had all ran up. He took the other one near the cage easily. The bandit was waving his sword and Boris twisted it back upon him, feeling the swing in the air. It was much slower than Diana¡¯s and he didn¡¯t even need to see to know where it was. A groan emerged as the smoke began to clear. The sword sat stabbed into the bandit¡¯s abdomen, his hand still upon it. Louder cries emerged as Boris ran towards the platform. He flung a few more smokescreens, the last of them, before the smoke could disappear. But the room was too large to be shrouded completely and the bandits had learnt their lesson. They ran out of the smoke to search for him, crouching low. ¡°Where are you bastard?¡± ¡°You will not leave alive!¡± Boris used those shouts to locate the bandits. ¡°#$% Kill the ^^&(els!s¡± ¡°&*# mongrelsss!¡± high-pitched queer screams shouted behind him. ¡®What language is that?¡¯ ¡°Mongrel *illss mongrelss!¡± another hysterical cry resounded. ¡°Shut up!¡± he whispered, towards the children in cages, raising his finger to his lips. Now that he looked, they were probably some queer outlying race Elaine had never described. ¡°Found him!¡± someone shouted up ahead. The difference in languages was giving Boris a headache. He noticed the first of spear bearers lunge for him, shouting, ¡°He is here! This runt!¡± Boris squeezed the vessels in his feet and shifted into diversion. For the bandit ahead, he all but vanished. The bandit felt a strong spin as he was thrown about, his own lunge guiding him to the ground. His nose cracked hard against the ground and he groaned, tasting blood. His leg was twisted the same time, ankle fractured in agony. He fainted. The second bandit came before Boris could deal completely with the one on ground. He kept caution as he dodged the spear thrust. From the corner of his eye, he could see that another bandit and mage remained unscathed. The mage was still steadying himself, his staff shaking in support. He felt their feeble killing intent focused on him. The bandit before him roared, thrusting the spear full force, underestimating him. He dodged the spear thrust the same moment he felt the mage prepare a spell. They were both horribly slow, and inelegant. Boris swept a foot under the attacker¡¯s leg, misbalancing him as his spear passed by. He grabbed the bandit by the scruff and used his fall to spin him around. The bandit swore wide-eyed as Boris held him like shield. A huge fireball struck him, charring his armor and face. ¡°Aaargh!¡± he groaned in pain. Boris emerged from behind him, a pickblow in hand, as the mage resorted to a basic lightning streak. Straining his legs, Boris ran for cover, avoiding the last bandit who was coming at him with rage. Lightning tore through the ground he stood and his only pickblow flew like a disk, exploding in the face of the last mage. The mage fell off, screaming violently and writhing about. The lightning bolt curved and exploded near his feet. It flung Boris at the platform, wounding his shoulder while he rolled on to avoid the brunt. He forced a stop and hopped back immediately, avoiding a spear that pierced the ground. It rippled with magic and flames. Boris looked up to find the last of bandits jump at him from the platform, seething with anger. ¡°You little pest!¡± ¡®I don¡¯t have time,¡¯ Boris spotted the little elven girl behind the bandit, still crying and pallid. A familiar face. He dodged a dagger¡¯s slash and avoided a pesky little fireball easily. He needed to take care of the enemy fast, before more came in or one of those inside decided to wake up. This enemy however, wore metal all over, gauntlets and guards, helmet and a chest piece. He was too heavily armored for a mere bandit. And his armor had a crest, a hexagram like the glyph. ¡°Give up, little pest! Neither you nor your companions above are going to survive,¡± the man blurted an empty threat as he pulled out a second dagger. Both daggers glowed, sparks of lightning erupting on their serrated edges. Boris dodged the horizontal swipe of one dagger and shifted sideways as the second dagger slashed vertically. They left a rippling tension in the air as they slashed, creating a slight glow and lot of crackling noise. His eyes traced their trajectories and forms, while gauging the exposed parts on the enemy, ¡®Ankles, sacrum, flank, armpit, face, neck.¡¯ The daggers slashed repeatedly while Boris tried to close in on openings. The bandit was slow but experienced, never relenting on his own guard. He grew increasingly annoyed however, with each strike that missed Boris and sparked flimsy air. ¡°Oraaah!¡± the armored bandit roared loudly and Boris felt a tinge of his Will, an angry, frustrated, intent to murder. It was weak, unlike his coarse, resounding voice. Boris responded with what he felt was his own Will. A determination to save the child and a readiness to kill for it. The bandit froze, uncharacteristically, drawing back a step in fear. Boris took it as luck and hit his flank with a side kick, then a low kick to the ankles and a final roundhouse kick to the side of the neck all in one fluid motion. The bandit collapsed like a broken log of wood. Boris watched him go down while still alert, ready for a counterattack. A victorious thud resounded. Boris leaned in and cracked a walltrick on the bandit¡¯s face. It would turn hard and incapacitate him. He proceeded to incapacitate everyone that lay around, not willing to take risks. By the time he was done, his reserve of walltricks was finished and everyone was stuck permanently to the ground, mouths gagged and limbs restrained. He had nothing left in his arsenal, except a few seedthorns and a howlking. The children inside the cages were shouting louder now. ¡°You mongrel, do usss favor!¡± ¡°Ssave uss mongrel!¡± ¡°Leave him, mongrelsss kill!¡± their voice was an irking, shrill tone. They peered through the cages with curious eyes. Some of them fought, argued each other, trying to raise a ruckus. Their language seemed to be a mix of weird pronunciations. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Keep quiet,¡± Boris tried to warn them. His language turned to theirs, in a crude imitation. But he himself didn¡¯t notice it. They grew silent at once, staring at him in question. ¡°I will release you later, I promise.¡± Boris could not open metallic cages after all. He would have to ask Diana¡¯s help once she ventured down here. He turned and ran towards the platform in hurry. The first priority was to release the child, so she could not be used a hostage or killed. After ensuring her safety, he would deal with the other bandits who had marched up. If Diana left them alive, that is. A dozen dazed expressions watched his back. ¡°Mongrel promisssed help usss.¡± ¡°Our tongue he ssspeakss!¡± ¡°Mongrel knowsss our tongue!¡± they were whispers too low for Boris to hear. One particularly keen hawk watched him with interest, never revealing itself. Not that it could, except by squeaking. The child stood tied and gagged. Her long ears flicked red in the light. Her cheeks were crusted with tears and wounds and her clothes disheveled. She looked in a faint glimmer of hope towards Boris, still afraid and apprehensive. Boris now saw why she seemed familiar. Her face looked remarkably like the one in his memories. Memories that he had long made peace with. No amount of guilt could face them but time had taught him differently, subdued them as scars. Those scars were now gouged at again, turning into fresh wounds. He swallowed them, distinguishing reality from illusion, and smiled warmly. The child drew back a little; his eyes did seem a little evil after all. ¡°Do not worry,¡± Boris reassured her in Cylian, ¡°No harm will come to you little elf.¡± She looked at him suspiciously, then relaxed a little. Boris smiled and swiftly climbed up the platform. She continued to eye him with mixed emotions but Boris did not mind. Then he felt it. There was sharp squeak from above and an ominous intent flared. It was corrupted, twisted and brutal. Boris rushed towards the wide-eyed girl who had felt it too, eager to shield her from harm. Another enemy had come, someone far more dangerous. He had no time to retaliate or even glance back, however. ¡®I should have killed the others first!¡¯ he reflected as he ran, the girl now inches from him. She gawked wide-eyed in fear, then froze up. A slash tore into the air, tossing him several feet back with mere force. His arms bled through his sheared sleeves, his grazed cheeks flowed red, dripping over his chin and wetting his lips. Boris squeezed his mana vessels hard in resistance. ¡°I missed?¡± a frivolous, tasteless voice sounded from the ledge. Boris scrambled to his feet, his eyes glued to the girl ahead. She was still standing but a rose red line formed on her pristine neck. Then it thickened as blood dripped all around and she fell, lifeless. Through tearing eyes he watched hope die on him. ¡®Weakling!¡¯ he cursed himself, ¡®Useless! Inept!¡¯ He struggled towards her body, hoping for it to return alive. ¡°So difficult to use it at longer ranges, at least the pureblood is dead,¡± the same voice spoke without concern, ¡°and the ritual is almost complete. My subordinates are useless, it seems.¡± Boris did not hear it. Reality merged with illusion as he glanced at her shocked face, still frozen in time. And though they were lifeless, he imagined scorn in those eyes. The scorn that had once given him nightmares. The nightmare was now real, and he was living it. ¡®Pathetic,¡¯ those eyes told him, ¡®to let me die again.¡¯ Guilt came plunging down and rage emerged out of it, boiling, bubbling, screaming. His mana tree cringed, twisted and ravaged about his body in partial spasm. A black swirling mass of emotions formed within as Boris turned to face the culprit. He could feel a twisted smile behind that cruel mask, he could feel the repugnant soul within those hidden eyes and he loathed it fiercely. ¡°You killed Sophie,¡± with a shivering, creaking voice, Boris spoke in half daze. The swirl of emotions heightened, threatening to tear apart his mind. It bulged and surged, expanding, howling, maddening him. The world turned red and ruthless. ¡°Poor soul,¡± the man inside the mask spared him a chuckle, ¡°Do not worry, you will be joining her soon.¡± He raised his hand and a glimmering sheen of air formed over it, like a long invisible sword. There were no traces of blood on it. He looked down upon Boris from the ledge. ¡°Uwaaargh!¡± there was weak, hoarse cry as Boris tried to stand, the world whirling and twirling. A small snigger sounded as the man extended his invisible sword to kill him. Their eyes met, each in vehement disapproval of the other. And Boris let the swirl of emotions out. Letting it rip through his mind and invade outside. Unlike his hoarse cry, it was a savage beast. It plundered through the air like a storm, rushing out in blazing force and fury. It was a gigantic intent to kill, filled with vengeance, rage and despair. It exploded out, unknown to Boris, through the walls and tunnels, through every crevice and every creature, until it burst into the forest outside. A bone chilling, oppressive Will. A silence fell outside, in the forest nearby. Monsters fainted, animals fell and birds dropped from their nests. Trees shuddered and air froze. Viker, the man in the mask, felt livid and terrified. His voice suffocated inside him, his magic vanished and his face paled. His knees gave way as he fell from the ledge. His shivering hands failed to grasp support. Terror overran him like a tsunami. He had witnessed a devil. A devil in the skin of a weak, human child. The bloodlust it gave made him want to die even before he fell. The boy lunged inhumanly at him as he fell, tearing through the air inconceivably fast. Viker found his throat grasped as both the boy and himself crashed into the ground. A brutal force crushed his throat before he could speak. He found death waiting for him as he coughed, heaving desperately for a breath. His eyes found the boy looking down at him in naked vengeance. As his vision blurred the image of the boy twisted inside his mind. ¡®Lord Solomon, you have come,¡¯ he remarked internally towards the boy, ¡®may you purge the heretics¡­¡¯ ¡°Aaaaaaaaaaaah!¡± Boris screamed as he killed the man in the mask. His vengeance felt empty and unfulfilled. ¡°ORaaa#%^^&aAAAAAA*((AH!¡± A louder roar erupted beside him, shaking the chamber and reverberating through the air. A creature had appeared out of thin air. The large, almost twenty feet tall abomination had two horns and blood red eyes. Its ankles dripped in the blood and its foot crushed the legs of the dead child. It roared about in a frenzied voice, ¡°#$ d%&^ c** )_ere!¡± ¡°You monster,¡± Boris let out a surge of killing intent towards it. A creature that feasted on innocent sacrifices. A demon. ¡°I will kill you!¡± The Berg ogre turned, its eyes curiously searching for the one who was letting out such killing intent. It found a marred, puny creature glaring back in vengeance and bloodlust. Its eyes recognized his form, bringing forth hatred and anger. ¡°M#%rel!¡± it roared in a voice Boris could barely comprehend. Then it jumped off the platform, ground surrendering in its wake. The jump toppled the flame pillar, sending the flames to pieces as it crashed against the ground. Flames littered about on cracked shells, flickering wildly and creating an area of darkness above. The ogre¡¯s eyes glowed within the darkness, glowering at the enemy that had piqued it. Boris rushed at it in mad vengeance, instincts guiding him to battle. He overexerted his muscles, each straining and producing an overwhelming force. A palm thrust into the ogre¡¯s knee from his height. A ripple emerged and the knee shifted a little, holding its own in strength. The ogre turned to face him in annoyance. It let out another loud roar as it pulled the broken pillar, waving it about as a weapon. The pillar passed slowly above Boris as he dodged, then launched a second hit in the hollow of the knee. The sturdy muscles held on, only bowing a little as the ogre turned about. ¡°Kill you mongrel!¡± it roared again, this time in a clearer voice Boris could understand. Boris ran around the ogre as it smashed the pillar into the ground, scattering pieces of rock and gravel with a trembling, grating noise. Dust rose up, flames flickered and Boris approached. Pushing his muscles hard, he tried to jump up the ogre¡¯s height. The ogre¡¯s belt provided a grip and he held it firmly. The ogre rampaged, throwing him about. Boris held on vehemently, trying to support his flailing legs, intent on climbing up the demon. The ogre ran in circles, trying to throw him off. Its hands finally smashed at Boris, sending him through the air. The wall welcomed him harshly, shearing his skin and tearing his flesh. More blood emerged as he rolled to a stop. Beside him, he saw the caged children collapsed in a heap, unconscious. A small weak voice inside him spoke, ¡®Save them.¡¯ Boris spit the blood, turning to face the ogre again. His body creaked from the stress, his heart thudding and muscles shuddering. His mind was half-lost, dazed and unsteady. Only the desire to kill remained. ¡®I will kill it, even if it kills me to do so,¡¯ he told himself. The flames grew dimmer and the air heavier as he stood up. He strengthened his feet, taking deep breaths to adopt the free form. His lacerated skin prickled and burned as blood seeped out. The bow was already broken and the quiver lost. Boris had no sense to seek for them. He concentrated purely on the enemy ahead. The ogre looked down, its eyes hovering to find Boris. They narrowed in disdain at last, locating him. Then it ran full force at him, the pillar held like lance to thrust. The ground shook as it advanced, a slow rumbling that made the gravel and stones bounce up into the air. With a war cry, it lunged. Boris raged and exerted his muscles even more. The pillar came at him like a raging bull, scraping away at the ground nearby. His eyes traced it in slow motion, instinctively. He ran straight at the pillar, jumping upon it to continue his advance. The ogre turned sharply to throw him off while Boris jumped again, this time to run up its forearm. The ogre smacked the wall heavily, using its whole body to wreck it. The shock threw Boris off the demon. He landed after a deft spin to look behind him. The cage had been crushed, most prisoners along with it, while a few injured ones rolled out. ¡°No!¡± he roared as the ogre noticed the crushed cage with annoyance. ¡°Grunts! More enemies!¡± the ogre cried, stomping hard into the remains and crushing them all. ¡°Do not touch them!¡± Boris rushed at the ogre blindly, letting out enormous killing intent that made the ogre wary. It turned and smacked a heavy hand towards Boris, catching him with the sweep. Boris could barely find the sense to dodge. The hit flung him high in the air, crushing a few ribs as he tasted more blood. His lungs ached heavily while he fell. His instincts still regained. He landed deftly on his toes, preventing more injury. His eyes sat glued on the ogre, who smashed the cage once more. Heat simmered throughout his body, he would collapse soon. His eyes ached, his ears rang and his skin bled more sweat than blood. A filthy coating of plastered blood and sweat mixed with grime all over him. His face was a painful mess. His skin clammy and his throat dry. He gnashed his teeth hard, letting out a third severe killing intent at the ogre who turned in annoyance. ¡°You, I will definitely kill!¡± he swore in a tongue not his own, but the ogre¡¯s. The ogre looked down upon him in greater grudge. ¡°You dare threaten me mongrel!¡± It hefted the pillar like a club. ¡°Your bones shall not remain.¡± They rushed at each other in vengeance. Boris ran aside as the pillar smashed into the ground, half of it crumbling to pieces with immense force. The floor rattled and rang, a blast emerging out of it. Shards tore through his back as Boris crossed below the ogre, running to the ogre¡¯s foot while it turned. He leaned in sharply, twisting into inversion while the ogre planned to swing the remaining pillar again. Boris drove a palm thrust straight at the balance point. His palm crunched at the impact, bones breaking, muscles shrieking and skin tearing. All it caused was a small misbalance as the ogre turned, leaning it closer to the ground. The pillar shifted a little with that, waving unevenly and creating a greater imbalance. Boris skirted around the leg as the ogre¡¯s blow tilted, its feet spun awkwardly and it leaned towards its left. The swinging pillar left its hands and the ogre bent, arm coming heavily towards the ground to support its fall. Boris received its forearm at the wrist, using his shoulder to redirect the momentum of the ogre¡¯s fall. His left shoulder crunched as the ogre¡¯s wrist twisted, twisting the whole arm with it. Boris jerked it hard, his own shoulder breaking in the process. Another pang of pain tore through his body as Boris clenched his teeth. A louder crunch resounded when the ogre¡¯s hand hit the floor awkwardly. Its wrist fractured under its own weight and its shoulder came undone, hanging by the side. Boris smiled venomously, the ogre howled in agony. They each had a broken shoulder and a useless arm. Boris strode up the ogre¡¯s broken arm, his left arm dangling in the air. The pain he mostly ignored. His creaking and cramping feet had lost all sensations. They pressed hard into the ogre for foothold, barely injuring his thick skin. Sweat rained down his body in buckets, his heart was ready to give in, his body ready to die. ¡®One last deed!¡¯ he told his senses on the brink, ¡®One last deed.¡¯ The ogre turned to face him in wrath, ¡°You Mongrel!¡± Boris reached up the shoulder and spun, his legs fractured at the force his muscles squeezed. It burst and threw him spiraling at the ogre¡¯s face. He extended his broken palm ahead, squeezing his mana vessels for every iota of strength as his arm tore through the ogre¡¯s eye. The bones cracked and pierced in, bringing out a shower of blood while Boris heaved. His arm dug in deeper into the eye as he scowled at the now horrified ogre. ¡°Die monster,¡± he whispered in a weak, sore voice. His vision blurred and the ogre tilted back. He coughed up the last of blood as his heart sank. His body went limp and he let go. ¡®I am coming Sophie,¡¯ he told her ghost. His mind closed in. A warm embrace came upon him. Death was kinder now, more accepting. His closing eyes imagined the hints of his master¡¯s face. His lips formed a voiceless apology, ¡°I am sorry master.¡± Then he faded out. ___________________ Diana had scouted into the hideout carefully, avoiding the corpses and traps as she delved deeper. Corpses were all she found for a while, each bandit killed with striking efficiency. They reminded her of a familiar person, one she did not expect to be here at this time. But then, she had had enough surprises her whole life to expect the unexpected. So when the unexpected emerged before her, she betrayed no hint of surprise. Just deflated her sense of tension to normal and peered around at the casualties. There were far too many people here, enough to form a small army. And the army was falling to a singular assault. Mayhem prevailed over them as the Lioness slashed through their ranks. Her scepter glowed golden, a sleek blade of light extending from it. The cavern had turned large and roomy, with embankments and ledges, built with a defensive purpose. This should have been a long time brewing. ¡®But to fashion something so large, did they discover a labyrinth?¡¯ Diana wondered as she looked ahead at the woman. A file of warriors and mages stood before her. The mages fired spells as the warriors tried to hold her back. They failed miserably. ¡°Uphold your shields!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let her pass!¡± ¡°What are the mages doing? Use your spells.¡± They shouted at each other while her scepter danced, taking down a man with each strike. A spell of lightning came and she deflected it, counterattacking with a fire blaze. The streak of swirling flames pierced through the mage above. ¡°Get her!¡± they shouted harder, not noticing Diana at all. It was not much fault of theirs, the woman before them captivated attention, almost stunning people with her charm. Her hair glowed golden, spun into a bun above her head. Two sharp long hairpins crossed through it, glinting black and silver. Her eyes glowed golden too, causing her opponents to fall into a trance. The warrior¡¯s sword was bypassed as the blade of light dug into his throat. She spun to pull it out, repelling another attack from the side and crushed a foot that encroached near. The guy howled in pain before receiving a stab into his chest. She pushed him hard through it, pummeling him into the ones behind. As they fell, she created an opening, slashing at the sides. The defensive line retreated and tried to reform while she took down another mage with a streak of lighting, tearing through his barrier shield. Given a whole month, this army could never regain an inch on her, Diana was sure of that. They could not even surround her. It was the Lioness after all. ¡°I never expected you to be here,¡± Diana spoke for the first time. An arrow left her bow and dived into the crowd, taking out a mage who was healing the retreating bandits. ¡°Diana?¡± she asked without looking back. Her scepter slashed a curve, the blade above it taking two heads at once. The bandits cried out in anger and dismay, their eyes still glued to her. ¡°I will assist, there seems to be enough of them to last a while,¡± Diana told her while the second arrow pierced through a larger barrier shield, exploding into flames and killing more in the rear. They tore through the ranks and files of bandits, driving them back through their own lair. ¡°Get Bulrock!¡± someone roared, ¡°It¡¯s time for him to prove his usefulness.¡± A scythian emerged from one of the ledges, holding an enormous battle axe that glowed purple. His tattoo was pulsing and his muscles rippling in excitement. The mercenary jumped down into the fray with a huge battle cry. The Lioness cut his head mid-air. She had jumped up a shield while her blade of light sliced through his neck, severing it before he fell. The head and body fell separately, a shower of blood between them. Enemies gasped and gaped. She landed strongly upon one shield, avoiding the blood, crashing the man below. Then she slashed at the bandits beside her, forcing them back. The front line retreated again, pushed by an enormous assault. Diana felled the rear with precise shots. They pushed the bandits back methodically, taking out the stragglers and mages with surety. Panic spread through the bandit ranks like wildfire. Messages went back and forth, calls for help going deep below and being answered by new additions. It only helped to delay their demise. Arrows and light tore through their ranks. Their own magic proved futile, deflected, overwhelmed and defied. Their weapons could barely touch the invaders while their warriors fell consistently. There was no escape. Just retreat. Then the cavern turned narrow again, filled to the brim with bandits. Ironically, this provided them with an advantage. Their rear ranks were more difficult to target and their front held fewer, easily replaceable warriors. Mages now focused only on defense and healing. Multiple layers of barrier shield erected up, creating difficulties for Diana and her companion. ¡°This is getting annoying,¡± Diana frowned as one of her arrows was deflected, multiple barriers redirecting it. She slung the bow back and delved in, pulling out two dirks that glowed green. Five consecutive ranks held their shields upfront. ¡°Who lent them all this?¡± she cried as her dirk stabbed between the shields, wounding the enemies. ¡°I do not know, but I intend to find out,¡± her companion replied as the scepter¡¯s blade pierced through the shield like a hot knife through butter. Two shieldsmen died on spot, one behind the other. Regardless, their advance had slowed. They whittled away at the enemy ahead, taking it easy. It was then that it happened. Diana felt a shudder down her spine as the wave came at her. She grabbed at the wall beside to support herself, her hands sweating a little at that monstrous killing intent. It blasted through the cavern ruthlessly, plundering the air and radiating terror. The Lioness cringed too. It took a moment for them to regain their bearings. The bandits had fainted. They lay in a bloodless pile, unmoving. But were they bandits? Many of them were equipped far too well. Diana shelved that question for some other time, redirecting her thoughts to an imminent threat. ¡°What do they have down below?¡± she asked incredulously, looking at the Lioness. ¡°What indeed?¡± Elaine reflected her surprise with apprehension. ______________ The highlands of Imberlon were home to a great warrior force of ogres, the Berg ogres. Or, as they called themselves, the Icebred. Their king chose to live high up among the peaks perpetually covered in snow. It gave him a good view over his lands and a vigilant sight over his enemies, the orcish grunts. This day, the king had been to his usual routine. He killed a snowbull for food, ordered his chiefs to increase their armies, chewed out his retainers for strategies against orcs and took a tour around his fortress, seeking invaders that never came. Rumors were spreading that he had become paranoid, that he sought the orcs¡¯ blood with madness, and that it would do better if his elder son now ascended the position. The king abhorred such suspicions, calling them baseless and worthless. He knew the orcs had been scheming, ready to kill him and usurp his lands. The orcs were always scheming. But he never knew their cowardly schemes. So he called forth a council of war by his right. They would take the orcs, before the orcs could take them. ¡°We kill grunts!¡± he had roared. He was always a man of very few words, and fewer phrases. But the councilmen were wary. War would mean a loss of their cattle, threatening their livelihood. The orcs were not as intolerable as hunger. And if they had to fight against one, they wouldn¡¯t win against the other. The king overruled them. ¡°They are enemies, and must all die.¡± He declared that they would soon launch a campaign against grunts, crushing them once and for all. This lead to a great fuss, but most could not stand against his overwhelming force of Will. They would rather provoke war to consume them. The future looked bleak. Then suddenly, fate played its hand and the leader disappeared. Without a sign or trail, he just vanished. In most circumstances, this would have caused the havoc. But today, the Icebred held a ceremony of mourning along with a ceremony of ascension. ¡°The king is dead. Long live the king,¡± they proclaimed. Thus, the reign of Olabar Icehorn ended and the reign of Kilabar Icehorn began. ______________ That''s that. A few notes. 1- Yeah, so I have shown you three things about Boris, we will discuss it later. (including Sophie, who is not relevant to plot) 2- the sickly green children are actually goblins. Boris does not know that, and he considers them children, for good reasons. 3- and yeah, Elaine is the Lioness, I guess that was clear from the start. Any more questions? Personally, I want to improve this chap too, when time permits. So sorry about that. Please list out grammar/other errors below. 13. Revelations EDIT: (28/2/16) Summary till now-Spoiler : Cumaria tries to summon three heroes 109 years after the death of the previous demon king, just before the new one is born. They botch it by summoning four people. Boris is the odd one out, with no magic and no (apparent) ability. His friends are bona fide celestial heroes. While his friends are away Boris shows good aptitude at learning languages, understanding magic, pissing off Elaine and picking up squabbles with the young prince. He gets into a duel with the prince, blows him off his feet but loses and gets whooped. Against the wishes of his friends, he gets himself expelled from the castle and starts his journey with Diana (badass she elf) and after insane training, pits himself against the Cult (who?) and an ogre. Ends up defeating and ogre and nearly dying. Now we''re here. Did I mention his will is very strong? okay done. This chapter has undergone some large changes in dialogue and exposition. If you remember it from before, I''d advise you only skip the part where Boris works the fields. The rest has changed a lot. __________________________ 13. Revelations ¡°By eight of thin of green blood, and one of Solomon¡¯s kin Shall last of rites be fulfilled, and end in last of sin So slay the One of last, and let his blood so fall By wrath of Lost of ages, let Scourge beckon the call Let loose the spawn of darkness, to seek their lord again And let the end begin, and let the truth regain¡± ??--- The Lost Archives, author unknown # 13. Revelations ¡°Mercy of dragons!¡± Diana exclaimed as she emerged on the ledge. She could barely see a boy march up a kneeling Berg ogre while it roared incomprehensibly. She had an ominous guess as to who that tattered, near-dead lump of human was. She jumped immediately, while the boy lunged madly at the ogre¡¯s head, piercing his arm through its eye. ¡°Oh lord!¡± Elaine exclaimed behind her, taking in the horrendous scene. A blood-dripping pedestal with corpses strewn about. Goblins stabbed through their heart and more of them crushed along with a cage. Then her eyes fell on the ogre, and a bleak resemblance of human that had lunged at its head. Her heart wavered. ¡®That fool!¡¯ Diana cursed him while cursing herself for being late. The way down had been littered with wards. Poor as they were, they were still dangerous and could have collapsed the whole structure. There was no time to regret however. ¡°You take the ogre, I take the kid!¡± she shouted at Elaine and eyed the writhing ogre as it fell along with the boy. Elaine obeyed the advice promptly, her mind struggling to make sense. Loud squeaks resounded throughout the cavern, but none of them heeded it. Diana reached out just in time to hold the collapsing body. He was an ugly mess, a mangled heap of broken bones that settled noisily in her arms. She leaned in to hear the faintest hint of apology on his blood-strewn lips. A severe expression crossed her eyes. ¡°You had best damn well be sorry,¡± Diana uttered while lifting Boris up, and jumped off the ogre¡¯s body. She crossed Elaine who darted up and sliced through the ogre¡¯s neck, a longer blade of light glowing on her scepter. More loud squeaks sounded from above. ¡°Shut up Argyvael, you worthless clump of feathers!¡± Diana scowled while laying Boris down carefully. With a start, she ripped his clothes open and pressed her ear against his chest. It was faint, but it was there. ¡®He just might survive¡­¡¯ She produced a bunch of potions while her other hand pressed hard against his chest. Boris twitched weakly with each spell she used. Her healing magic was not working well. Argyvael squeaked harder and the ogre finally fell dead. ¡°Slice the cage above Elaine,¡± Diana asked as she selected a few potent potions of healing and rejuvenation. ¡°Then skin him alive and roast him dead,¡± she added in a stony voice. Elaine felt the first of her senses regain at the heavy cynicism in Diana¡¯s voice. ¡®It was the cult! It was the thrice damned cult!¡¯ she realized. The hexagram had always been a symbol of that vile organization, and bloodshed was not beyond them. She sliced through the cage above and let her eyes wander warily. They stopped at Diana. She walked towards her apprehensively. ¡°Breathe!¡± Diana yelled while she continued to use healing magic, ¡°Breathe for me!¡± Her vast reserves of mana sank into Boris and she chanted, turning to arcane magic. The arcane healing spells were as unpredictable as they were potent, making them risky. A small gasp of breath emerged to her satisfaction. Then a few more rapid, shaky whimpers left his lips. The cage above rattled and fell to pieces, metal clanging against the ground in absurd irritation. And Argyvael, the snow-white hawk, emerged with his tail glowing. He swooped towards the pedestal without a word, blowing a torrent of wind that tore the pedestal to pieces, and piled up wreckage upon the already wrecked chamber. Then he turned and perched beside the others. ¡°Will he survive?!¡± Elaine asked tersely, recognizing Boris. She had feared this would come, it came worse than she feared. ¡°He has lost too much blood. Wet the cloth, and drip the potion bit by bit, mix it with water, bandage his arms, keep the head aligned,¡± Diana ordered randomly while still trying to heal Boris. ¡°Why did you let him¡ª ¡°I did not,¡± Diana cut short her accusation. ¡°Now let me focus.¡± ¡®If I may¡ª ¡°You had best keep quiet Argyvael,¡± a scathing Diana answered, ¡°I may really skin you otherwise.¡± A weak squeak left his beak as Argyvael bent his head, shrinking at the Will Diana was emanating. The woman beside her looked even scarier, her black eyes digging deep into the collapsed boy. ¡®Good for you boy, or maybe not¡­¡¯ Argyvael voiced without thought. Boris was still unconscious, his breath coming and going erratically. Elaine had torn her sleeves and dipped them in the potion. She squeezed it upon his lips while pouring a few sips of water from her waterskin. They spilled inside and out with his shivering mouth, mixing with both saliva and sweat. Elaine swept the liquid back with the cloth, squeezing it again into his mouth. His pulse was flickering, his chest heaving weakly in hope of survival. A muddle of emotions formed through Elaine. This was partly her fault. She never should have let the inept go. She knew what awaited him. Now there was little she could do to save him. Diana continued her chants while placing both her hands upon his chest. Though it was barely keeping Boris alive, she hoped he would pull through. Hope, unfortunately, was not so easily tempted. His struggles grew weaker, breath becoming a wisp of air and heart receding against death. His skin grew colder and Diana¡¯s eyes flinched. She was losing him. Elaine recognized that expression with shock, ¡°No, there must be something you can do.¡± ¡°Get back Elaine Sithe,¡± Diana¡¯s voice turned somber. The air beside her started to glow and shiver. She leaned in, pressing all her weight upon his chest, palms crossed over his sternum and breathed an apology, ¡°Forgive me Ary¡¯ann for I cannot let this child die.¡± And then the ground rumbled as arcane magic erupted. A massive amount of mana formed around her. Both Elaine and Argyvael withdrew, wary of it. The floor melted and caved around Boris. Small streamlets of water erupted to flood in and engulf him. They seeped through the wet mud that started to solidify. Sweat rained down Diana as she continued, her face now tense and her breath rapid. The earth reformed to a cast, covering all but the head of Boris. It glowed red with fire and the flames flickered nearby. It brought a shade of red to the pallid, cold cheeks of Boris and again, a breath escaped his lips. Hope had been tempted. Diana smiled as she finished the chants, letting the wind settle inside the cast and simmer the fire. ¡°He will live,¡± she breathed a sigh at Elaine, too tired to speak any louder. She extended her arm and Elaine took it with some displeasure. Diana grimaced, ¡°Do you ever change?¡± Then she turned to face Argyvael. ¡°Carry him outside, then we will talk.¡± ¡®Right, right. You are turning like your mother, Diana of Silverdeens. I am fed up of this heat anyway,¡¯ the hawk complained but obeyed nonetheless. He swooped his tail below Boris and rolled him up, feathers grabbing around him in support. They climbed up the stairs to the ledge, turning at last to take in the tragedy that had fallen. The cultists and bandits lay among their victims¡¯ corpses. Weak flames spread the stench of death through the murky air and blood soaked the ground black. A single elven child lay dead among the remains, her face still frozen in time. Diana felt pain sear up as she saw the dead child. Then she etched an intricate glyph into the wall and let Elaine activate it. It sent a pulse through the chamber as they walked away. Behind them, the flames now roared and ravaged, eating through the remains hungrily. ¡°Now then,¡± Diana spoke when they were finally outside and rested. ¡°You let bandits invade your turf, you let them bring in demons and you let my disciple die without lifting a finger, or a claw. Give me a reason I shouldn¡¯t just kill you now.¡± She eyed Argyvael, his brilliant white plumage still glowing in the last sun of the day. The hawk stared at her intently for a time. Sharp brown eyes met sharply with Diana¡¯s and he crooned a little. His buff underbelly and speckled crown made him seem regal, until he spoke. ''You know the reason.'' It was a girlish accent with a squeaky undertone, like an overexcited maiden. Elaine swallowed a dry chuckle. ¡®They had me under eight layers of your call-it-what confinement, I couldn¡¯t even use speech.¡¯ Argyvael pointed his beak towards the pile of tied up bandits. These were the ones rescued for interrogation, the rest had been left to fate. The mages were all dead, half of them having committed suicide. ¡°And how exactly did they catch you?¡± As Diana spoke, the cave entrance collapsed with a rumble behind her. Backdropped with the explosion, her eyes narrowed terrifyingly. Argyvael turned his beak up in reluctance, peering at the sky. ¡®The cowbinge,¡¯ he grumbled. Elaine frowned from her seat on the pile of bandits, ¡°The cowbinge is a myth.¡± ¡®Yes, well excuse me my lady whose name I know not, but I didn¡¯t know that they were a myth did I? Besides, what I am about to tell you will make you flunk your myth lessons. It is like telling you the sky is not blue anymore or that you can fly without wings¡ª ¡°Out with it,¡± Diana cut in. ¡®Yes, yes, I know. Your disciple did great in stopping these people, you know. They were cooking up a disaster, a really horrible one. But then again, I should have known that massive Will,¡¯ Argyvael turned towards Boris, ¡®It is what I would expect of your disciple, made me nervous, it did.¡¯ ¡°What¡ª ¡°Not now Elaine,¡± Diana cut Elaine off midway, never betraying the slightest hint of surprise. She did have an inkling, now it was confirmed. ¡°Stop digressing, Argyvael. How did they bring in the demons?¡± she veered the conversation around. ¡®That is the thing, they summoned goblins! Before my eyes, I saw demon after demon pop out of air. They killed a lot of people while at it, something like a sacrifice. And worst yet, that was just to be the beginning!¡¯ Faces hardened at this. Never before had anyone summoned the demons. One would have to be doubly suicidal to do that. The Cult was always doubly suicidal, but it never had the means to do so. That raised a lot of dangerous questions. How did they come by such means? Was it yet another misled attempt to resurrect Solomon? And what worse could follow? ¡°What could be worse?¡± Diana asked in a grim tone. ¡®You might not believe but I speak the truth. They planned to summon a scourge! That was the ritual your disciple interrupted, thankfully. Nature bless him, what¡¯s his name?¡¯ Words fell like lightning upon silent night. ¡°The scourge?!¡± Diana asked with knitted eyebrows, ¡°Do not spin lies,¡± her voice turned stony, ¡°the scourge cannot be summoned. No one even knows what they are.¡± Elaine herself started but did not speak. It was insane to even think of summoning a scourge. One might as well have summoned the devil next. She pointed a skeptical gaze at Argyvael who crooned again. ¡®I am not lying. Why do you think I crushed the pedestal first of all? It could summon the scourge. And you should have done that first too. You people have your priorities messed up!¡¯ ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear that from you,¡± Diana retorted, ¡°That was a hexagram on the pedestal, the cult¡¯s symbol. There is no summoning glyph like that.¡± ¡®Believe what you will,¡¯ Argyvael rebuffed. It seemed like a tantrum though. ¡®I do not know your cults and glyphs but I know what I heard. They wanted to summon the scourge.¡¯ ¡°Alright, that will be that. Is there anything else you want to speak of?¡± Diana asked as she prepared to leave. She needed time to think upon what had happened. ¡®The child¡¯s name, what is it?¡¯ Argyvael walked to the unconscious Boris, extending a talon towards him. Elaine put a hand on her scepter but Diana stopped her. ¡°It is Boris Debron, why?¡± ¡®Boris Debron. Let him know that Argyvael of Avians owes him favor,¡¯ his voice turned sober as Argyvael etched a small mark on Boris¡¯s forehead. A V-shaped wound glowed then thinned to a fine cut. ¡®And let him know that Avians never forget their debts.¡¯ ¡°Then perhaps you would like to repay another favor,¡± Diana insinuated. ¡®I owe you nothing, child of fairies, but I shall be with your cause if you must ask that,¡¯ Argyvael turned east as he spoke, readying himself for flight. ¡°Not me but Sikata. He helped lead us here. Even spoke of you.¡± ¡®Curses! I am leaving before that grouchy, tasteless fellow comes! Tell him he has no permission to come into my territory and I will meet him when the moon dieees¡­¡¯ Argyvael¡¯s voice faded to an echo as he fled swiftly, wings fluttering into the dusk. ¡°How are we going to carry all of this?¡± Elaine asked Diana, seeing the hawk fly away. ¡°We will drag them to the river, then down through it. Let us hope Sikata is there to help,¡± Diana replied as she hefted up Boris, leaving the pile of bandits to Elaine. Elaine frowned before turning to drag them. ¡°You drove him to his death. Is this what you promised?¡± she said accusingly. ¡°Isn''t it though?¡± Diana replied. ¡°When I asked you to help him, it didn''t mean push him to half-death and then save him.¡± ¡°No it didn''t. But then, this isn''t about what you asked, it''s about what I promised.¡± ¡°That''s pure sophistry, don''t give worthless answers,¡± Elaine remarked in annoyance. ¡°Then don''t ask worthless questions. He isn''t giftless like you think, and if he doesn''t face his limits, he will never overcome them.¡± ¡°You don''t understand Diana. He isn''t a hero, he isn''t invincible, he really will die if this continues.¡± ¡°You do know he''s probably going to die anyway right? Isn''t it better to do it this way? If I cannot provide him the strength to live, I''ll at least give him the courage to die.¡± ¡°And that right there, is exactly why I hate you. You and your Elkeenian ideology.¡± ¡°That''s the irony,¡± Diana smiled ruefully, ¡°If anyone, I expect you should understand it best.¡± Elaine sighed. There was no use arguing anymore, not with Diana. ¡°Where will you go now?¡± she asked exasperatedly. She had given up on convincing Diana otherwise. ¡°To Bizeon, I need to inform the Embassy and make a few preparations for Cylia.¡± ¡°Then best we go together.¡± ¡°What of the heroes? And Durham?¡± Diana asked curiously. ¡°An unnecessary concern,¡± Elaine stated as she flicked her hair open, removing the hairpins. It flowed down on her blood-speckled clothes, making her look horrifying in the dim light. ¡°I was worried when they turned out to be children but it seems they are heroes nonetheless. Durham is not much of a concern either, I will send him a report through the garrison along with this pile of prisoners.¡± Diana stopped a moment, gauging Elaine through her sharp green eyes. ¡°You have changed, A''laina. That¡¯s very odd of you,¡± she suggested. ¡°I am just doing my duty, as I always will.¡± Diana laughed. She never considered what Elaine was doing to be her duty, just her wish. They ignored each other till they walked into an open clearing and Sikata appeared. He plucked Boris without a word, seemingly out of concern for the still exhausted Diana and led them back. Night had fallen and a half moon gleamed happily in the clear sky. But far, far away, darker clouds were rising up. ------------------------ Boris lay upon the dank ground, scrunched up and gasping. All he could feel was the pain inside his body and the dreadful smell of death that hovered around. They screamed and bawled at him. Cursing his name in the darkness that hid everything. Boris couldn''t help it. He had tried to help them over and over again. But it was useless. Each time he tried, he failed, and they ended up dead. So he shut his ears forcefully, trying to drown the noise, trying to forget the massacre. Trying to find escape. And as the howls drowned to whimpers and the darkness to gloom, Boris felt a tinge of guilt and a surge of relief. Maybe this time it was finally over. Then he shrieked. A hand had erupted out of the ground, a bloodied mess of a hand that clung forcefully to his ankles. And even though he tried to deny it, her face appeared out of the ground, staring at him with dead eyes. "Forgive me! Let me go!" Boris garbled through a shivering tongue. But she clenched harder and pulled, dragging him into a swath of bog that swallowed him. Mud poured in gushes and torrents, as if a dam had broken. It coursed through the hollows of his body, clogging his mouth, cluttering his nose and deafening his ears. It suffocated and terrorized him, until he felt like dying. Then it threw him back upon the ground, where he lay scrunched over and gasping. Unable to live. Unable to die. And the screams began again. The nightmare repeated itself eerily, like a broken tape record. Boris had no sense other than to experience it over and over. And when hope seemed hopeless and mercy merciless, the dream changed. There was the familiar scene again. Boris found himself standing before the monster. Its enormous mass swirled and rippled, sending shockwaves through the air. Long, shifting arms erupted here and there, wreaking havoc throughout. But Boris didn''t have any strength to face it, no time to ponder over anything. He struggled desperately, trying to carve a glyph. A glyph he should have known, a glyph he should have understood. Why did it turn out like this? Why? Where had he gone wrong? But even as he cursed, he drew and drew, adding runes and symbols to the glyph. People were shouting at him. He didn''t care. People were hurling spells around. He didn''t care. It was as if that glyph meant everything. As if the world would end if he couldn''t complete it. But he completed it at last. In a moment of brazen luck. Now all he needed was¡ª Suddenly the world froze. "Boris, no! No!" He heard a familiar voice. It wasn''t right. Pain seared through his chest. Curious, confusing, crushing pain. It wasn''t right. He coughed a mouthful. Blood splattered over his hands and he looked down in horror. It wasn''t right. There was nothing left. Something had ripped his chest. Something black that was wriggling about, scattering bits and pieces here and there. ¡®Am I dying?¡¯ By the time he realized it, the shock had vanished. He just couldn''t feel anymore. The world was turning white. His senses dulled and he found his thoughts fading away. Until finally only one remained. ¡®At least the glyph is complete,¡¯ he told himself. It was all right... Boris jerked awake like a man out of water. He gasped weakly and looked down in apprehension. He was alive. It was a dream. Just another one. Though he could not remember it well, it had seemed different from before. But he did not ponder over it. It was best to leave such dreams alone. A rattle of wheels brought him back to the present, jerking his head softly against someone''s lap. Boris swallowed the wet bitterness he felt and looked around. Locks of black hair hung around him like a curtain and obscured his view till it fell on the bosom above. ''Who?'' The thought had barely made across when a fresh draft brushed the strands of hair upon his face. A familiar scent of olives lingered on. Boris recognized it immediately and struggled to move away. His body curved up, weakened and fell back with a thump. Elaine glanced down from above, a curious smile upon her face. ¡°You''re awake? How are you feeling?¡± ¡°Eh? Ah-um, I am- feeling okay?¡± his mind jumbled to make sense of the situation. ¡°He is awake, Diana?¡± she called out. ¡°Is that so?¡± Diana replied as she climbed in from somewhere outside. ¡°Good, it is time we made a little stop. I think the next town is Velur, we will leave the caravan there.¡± ¡°What, are you doing here?¡± Boris uttered in surprise at Elaine, then more questions came. ¡°Where am I? And¡­ what happened to the children?¡± he blurted incoherently. ¡°One thing at a time,¡± Elaine replied as Diana climbed in from the rear wagon. ¡°We are inside a caravan. I am traveling with you. I don¡¯t know what children you are talking about and really? Those are the first things you say?¡± Elaine eyed him with a subtle frown. ¡°Is- am I alive?¡± Boris tried guessing what he should have said. ¡°You can be damned sure you are,¡± Diana spoke beside him, ¡°and start reflecting on what you did, soon.¡± As his vision fell on Diana, things started making more sense. Memories resurfaced and guilt emerged. ¡°The children, Diana, they- they died¡­ ¡°It was one elven child who died. And while I am moved by your concern, you did something really absurd.¡± ¡®One child?¡¯ Boris remembered differently. ¡°No, there were more. In the cage, crushed¡­ ¡°They were goblins,¡± Diana corrected him, ¡°Now get your head out of all that. It was a lesson for you. Learn to deal with reality. I applaud your courage for disobeying me, so you must deal with the consequences it brought.¡± She eyed the mark on his forehead while she spoke. Boris swallowed her words bitterly, finding no retort. He felt relaxed but weak. Questions still swirled in his head. Diana shook her head in slight disapproval. ¡°A week you were unconscious kid.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a lot of time,¡± Boris reflected. ¡°For an inept who challenged a Berg ogre?¡± Elaine asked rhetorically, ¡°No it isn''t. You jumped at your death, didn¡¯t you?¡± He felt a jerk of the wagon shift him slightly so his eyes now met Elaine¡¯s directly. There was pause to her glare as she shuffled his head back into position then bent a little, intimidating him. ¡°I- I was- it just happened. I fell through and then they were trying to kill that- that girl, she is dead now.¡± Boris felt his cheeks pale. For all his bravado, he shivered at the bloodshed he had witnessed. ¡°Well, what¡¯s done is done,¡± Elaine concluded. She pinched his cheeks hard in chastisement. They felt warm enough to touch, a comfortable feeling in winter. She rubbed them again in comfort. ¡°Go to sleep, you need rest.¡± Boris flinched a little at the mention of sleep, fearing the nightmare that followed after. ¡°Ah,¡± Elaine guessed, ¡°having bad dreams lately?¡± then proceeded smoothly to say, ¡°Tell me Boris, who is Sophie?¡± Boris felt like stake had been driven through him with that. He turned his eyes away, afraid that the greatest of his fears would leak out. Elaine still dug him with her query but he resisted the urge to speak, and twisted his reply, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± ¡°Sure it doesn¡¯t,¡± Elaine argued back, ¡°unless you babble her name all week in your stupor. Unless you jump to your death over her. Is she dead too?¡± His eyes scooted away again. ¡°Dead I see,¡± Elaine concluded. ¡°Yes, she is,¡± Boris grouched. It irked him to talk of his sister, of how she left him, and what she left him with. ¡°Why are you getting so angry?¡± Elaine reflected his anger with displeasure, ¡°Is it not fit that I ask such a question? Are you that afraid of the dead? I doubt you could have killed anybody to be so when, by your own admission, you could barely harm a mosquito.¡± She did not like seeing Boris grouchy. Sadness did not suit him, mischievousness did. She sighed, ¡°The dead have their place Boris, they do not belong where you hide them. Let them rest and forgive yourself.¡± Boris felt a dismissive edge in those words. ¡°And what do you know of death?¡± he argued. Diana smacked his head. ¡®Apologize,¡¯ was her intent. He glared back and refused to obey. ¡°I know enough of it,¡± Elaine replied under the guise of a smile. There was a gaze in her eyes that he found similar to Violet. Similar to his own when he remembered Sophie. Remorse, longing and pain. And he realized Elaine had seen someone die. Someone dear. Someone close. Maybe it wasn''t his place to question her. But the way she looked at him it felt like she was looking at a ghost. As if he was the one who had died. ¡°You have seen an inept die¡­¡± Boris guessed wryly, now surprised he had not seen that earlier. ¡°Both you and Violet¡­ and Grey!¡± Was that why they had been behaving differently from the others? The plastic smile melted, a hint of surprise flickering while Elaine regained composure. Diana stirred curiously. ¡°You never told¡ª ¡°Enough.¡± Elaine glared, forcing a silence. ¡°Let''s end this here, I don''t want to talk about it anymore.¡± ¡°Oh, is that so?¡± Boris fumed. ¡°So it''s not just the kingdom that has been hiding stuff huh?¡± His anger turned a shade darker and his will seeped out, eliciting another surprise from Elaine. Mustering every bit of his strength, Boris forced himself to roll out of Elaine''s lap with a heavy heart. Could he not trust even her? He wanted to trust her, to let her know. He wanted her by his side. Maybe it was only him though. Maybe he was as much trouble to Elaine as he had been to the King. Maybe he had been wrong about things. ¡°Sorry about troubling you then. I will go back to my own business.¡± He went back to sleep, wallowing in his own thoughts. For a brief moment, the hexagonal glyph flitted through his mind. He wondered if it could shed some light on the summoning, maybe help him find a way back. He missed home more each passing day. ''I''ll find a way back,'' he assured himself, ''Definitely.'' Elaine looked in cold sweat at the boy who had just made her shudder. ¡°What did he just...¡± She looked suspiciously at Diana. ¡°Did you¡ª ¡°Didn''t I tell you?¡± Diana beamed, ¡°He isn''t giftless, just a little handicapped.¡± "Perhaps," Elaine blinked unsteadily, "perhaps not." ------------------------ Velur was a town of simple folk. They were about at dawn when the caravan rolled in. It stopped at a stable attached to an inn. They dismounted with their luggage, which Diana had narrowed down to two knapsacks and a small box of supplies. She walked off with Boris in tow. Elaine walked beside him, silent as a statue. Boris looked back at the extravagant inn. Two floors and a large hall with inviting couches that could sink you in. ¡°It costs a pretty penny, you know,¡± Diana spoke without looking back, ¡°The caravans do business with that inn, which means more income for both but higher prices for us.¡± It was something Boris had already realized, but it was still tempting. They walked up a pebbled road through the town square and out into the row of wooden houses at the end of town. Diana stepped into an inn familiarly, a single floor establishment with a barn out front and a desk just inside the door. Balconies to the side overlooked the barn and a few horses were tied up nearby. They chewed their feed without a worry, neighing softly. The innkeeper welcomed them with a look of recognition and respect. ¡°Madam Diana, you should have told us you were coming. Your companions? Please, make yourself at home.¡± ¡°No need for formalities Tallin, where is Donner?¡± Diana asked as they laid down their luggage near the desk. The inside was warm with fire and the glowing hearth crackled now and then with satisfaction, striking up embers into the air. Simple lanterns hung from iron hooks, casting faint yellow circles on grey walls. ¡°Ah, did you come for Donner?" Tallin replied, "I am sorry. He left for Bizeon sometime ago. Wants to try his luck at the larger city, that fool. I can send for him if you want.¡± ¡°It¡¯s alright, we are a bit tired. Could you get us some food while we rest?¡± The innkeeper led them to a large room with two beds, a couch and a table. He brought in trays filled with porridge and bread. A side of fruits along with it. They ate their fill, Boris quite visibly so, and turned to retire. Following a small rest, Diana brought Boris out into the dining hall, letting Elaine sleep. She had been the most tired of their lot. The tables were large and empty now. But the curses and scars etched into them foretold that they would turn lively again, come evening. Diana pulled a chair across from Boris, a throgwood piece, and prompted him to sit. ¡°There now, let me talk about the more important things,¡± she crossed her arms across her chest as she spoke. Boris accepted, there were questions he had too. ¡°I am pretty sure you now have a good idea how to use Will, you did just blast it off in the cavern.¡± Diana started. ¡°I think I do,¡± Boris nodded. ¡°Good, now try to use it on me. Imagine killing me, do it.¡± Boris strained to focus on her, trying to let out the killing intent. He let it spill out. A man behind him stopped for a moment of hesitation, turning to eye him. Boris shrugged. Then he drew abruptly back in his chair, feeling Diana¡¯s hand clutched across his throat terrifyingly, and fell with a thud. He shook his head to see Diana seated comfortably, her hands still crossed under her chin. She smirked mildly, ¡°That, you see, is how you use your Will. You do not broadcast it in the air, you focus it on your target, giving no hint to others. At its best, you can make a man faint without anybody else feeling it.¡± ¡°How do I do that?¡± Boris asked, amazed. ¡°Well, for a first, learn to control it, to rein it in. Try to feel the Will of others instead of pressing your own, try to make sense of it. This is not something I can teach well, because I learned it instinctively. But it always helps if you try it out on animals and monsters. They are simpler creatures, their Will easier to grasp.¡± ¡°Is there something else to it? Something like making it stronger?¡± Diana frowned at those words. ¡°Your Will is plenty strong, kid. What you must learn is control. Mark my words in red. Do not get drunk upon your Will, trying to make it stronger and formidable, exerting it everywhere. It is an expression of your desires and emotions. If you let it go berserk, like you did last time, you will turn mad. I have seen my people go crazed beyond any hope of recovery. Always guide it with caution, never let it control you,¡± she spoke with a stern, sharp tone. ¡°I will keep that in mind,¡± Boris gulped, remembering his own case. ¡°You must,¡± Diana stressed, ¡°You have been growing volatile and angry, I do not like that. Show respect and courtesy, and never talk to people like that.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°Like you did with Elaine today.¡± Boris felt a sense of dread as Diana continued, ¡°When you see her next, you will apologize earnestly and thank her. I will not condone arrogance.¡± "But she was¡ª "Did you tell her about your sister''s death. No, right?" Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Boris was taken aback but Diana merely continued. "There are plenty of people with plenty of secrets and if you reject them merely so, you are doing yourself a great disservice. Elaine may seem suspicious but you just agreed to go with an elf you never met before to a country you have never seen before leaving friends you knew all your life. That''s a leap of faith, what''s wrong with taking a step more that way?" ¡°I will,¡± he bowed his head. ¡°Good. Now let us leave, we need to get you equipped.¡± ¡°I have questions to ask too.¡± ¡°Along the way, sure.¡± As they made their way along town, Diana briefly explained to Boris what had transpired all this while, satisfying some of his doubts while raising others. "So they were really goblins, like demon goblins?" Boris asked warily. "How many times are you going to question me on that? Those were demons known as goblins, with a bloodthirsty and crafty nature. Almost as dangerous in numbers as the Berg ogre that you fought. If you''d found yourself between both, I doubt you''d have lasted any more." "But then they..." Boris paused. If they were really goblins, then revealing that he could talk to them would make him just as sinister as the King had insinuated. "No," he corrected himself before Diana could ask any further. "Just making sure. Didn''t you say that the Cult had summoned them. So they weren''t really at fault? Or is the cult conspiring with demons now?" ¡°It''s not a matter of finding faults. If I throw you to a hungry lion, you will die regardless of whether it''s my fault or the lion''s... Or yours.¡± She explained as they turned towards the marketplace. A stink filled to fill the air here, reeking of tanned hides and skinned furs. Boris scrunched his nose and pondered more over Diana''s answers. "Why would they do it? And how, when summoning magic is supposed to be both difficult and closely guarded?" The crowd had begun to thicken around them and Boris struggled to keep pace with Diana. The smell was growing worse, as if the whole town was made of butcher''s shops. That wasn''t true though, and he thought Diana was leading them to some of the other ones. Or at least hoped so. "I don¡¯t know kid," Diana swung her head at his question. "But whatever it is, it is not good at all. Not to mention they had fashioned a hideout out of an unmapped labyrinth. I wonder where the other ends lead to? I suppose we will have to leave all this to Durham and pray he scares them enough.¡± "To that King huh? That''s unsettling, I hope he doesn''t involve my friends into this." Boris wished so dearly. He didn''t want them coming into contact with crazed psychopaths bent on resurrecting the devil Solomon himself . Regardless of whether or not it was possible. Regardless, even, of whether or not it truly existed. "Don''t worry," Diana assuaged his concerns. "Despite how he looks, Durham is wise enough to know where to employ the heroes and where not to. There are far better ways to deal with the cult." "Hmm?" It was unusual to hear good of the King, as Boris could only paint him black and dastardly. "That scum of a¡ª "Hey now, mind your tongue. A single insult in the wrong place could get you executed," Diana hushed him as the crowd turned rowdier. Boris coughed and turned to the shops around. He wondered how people could be this excited about meat and fur. Maybe because it was winter. Crowds of men rushed through his sight, their zeal almost contagious. A few of them even greeted him in their own curious ways. "May Thiracus pave your way" and some such phrases. Increasingly, Boris found himself attracted to the liveliness around him, forgetting his troubles for respite. There were of course, moments where he found that the stink had turned nastier. ¡°It is called stinker¡¯s weed,¡± Diana had explained, ¡°It grows in winter here, when the soil is left alone. It is a good ingredient for some basic potions, but almost worthless here, abundant beyond need.¡± On the whole, it was peaceful enough for Boris to relax, to forget the dream that had turned ominous and dark. It was just a dream, he had reasoned subconsciously. Was it? They arrived at a clothing shop and Boris found himself fitted into a buff leather jacket and doubly thick trousers. He looked up in agony at his curious figure. His body had started to tone up, muscles gaining some bulk while his posture straightened. That made him seem confident, but no amount of confidence could help a man in ugly yellow jacket and pink trousers. They were hideous. So he replaced them with fashionably better ones. After the tour, Boris was blessed with his new inventory. Tougher clothes, a pair of bows with arrows and boots that looked good for their price. Diana also bought him a few other supplies he asked for. She let him have them as ¡°a reward for passing¡±. ¡°After this however,¡± Diana told him, ¡°you must earn your keep. A place to sleep and food to eat, I will not be providing you with any.¡± They parted ways on that agreement, Diana to look for her alchemical supplies and Boris towards the request board. In the city of Orin, there were separate guildhalls for mercenary, merchant and other guilds of both religious orders. Here though, it was a simple circular building with a large red sign overhanging its open doors. Boris walked in to see a small gathering of people inside. Most of them seemed like merchants, well dressed with ornaments glinting in the light, especially the plump women. Burly, armed guards accompanied some and kept a roaming eye around. And lean, able men walked in between, glancing at the request boards. The open request board, as it implied, was open to all. Any higher and you needed an identification badge, along with a certain level of reputation to access them. Most requests here were crammed into the open request board. Stacks of handwritten parchment stuck into every inch of space specified the details. The stink even made it to inside the building, although the large open windows helped improve ventilation. Boris picked one that interested him. ¡®Make easy money!! Remove the stinker¡¯s weeds. Fifty pennies for each piece of land. Provision for free food and drinks. No hidden requirements!¡¯ Then it specified the requester¡¯s address and additional details. Diana had advised him not to indulge in too much physical exertion. His body was still healing and pulling stinker¡¯s weeds seemed like an easy task. Boris plucked the parchment and brought it to the indorser¡ªa fat, heavy man with speckled beard and peppered hair. He received it with thick hands and ran a cursory glance over it. ¡°First time?¡± he asked in a dead, formal voice. ¡°Yes,¡± Boris answered, trying to gauge the man. He looked like an overworked, overfed, fed up office worker. ¡°Need a badge made?¡± the man offered with an unruly tap of his fingers at the desk. ¡°How much time and what costs?¡± ¡°Thirty pennies for beginners and a week minimum to have it made,¡± the man answered with a slight irritation. ¡°Then please let me accept it without a badge.¡± ¡°Alright. Your name?¡± ¡°Boris Debron.¡± The man harrumphed as he pulled out a penbrush and scribbled something across the parchment. He grabbed a seal and busted it hard against the desk, leaving a deep imprint on the paper. It looked like a square glyph in red and blue, with inscribed symbols. ¡°Place your thumb here,¡± the man pointed at the seal. Boris extended his hand reluctantly, wary of what his ineptitude might bring. It brought a frown on the indorser¡¯s lips as the glyph flickered and deformed, leaving a sharp prickling sensation on Boris¡¯s thumb. The man leaned over with a scowl and grabbed his hand. Boris was almost ready to flip him when the man dipped his thumb into a dirty pot of ink and pressed it near the deformed seal, leaving smudges on the paper. He finally settled back in satisfaction, tearing the bottom part and giving the rest to Boris. ¡°Follow the main road right and take the third left from here, then follow the curve to beyond the well and Ruben¡¯s farm. Meet Welkins there. If you need a map, you can buy it outside. Oh, and best you change into your cheapest clothes.¡± The indorser issued his advice with robotic precision, then ignored him completely, turning to the others. Welkins turned out to be a likeable fellow. Middle aged, portly and balding with a shifty smile. ¡°Nice to see young blood chiming in to help us needy folks,¡± he nodded encouragingly while offering Boris a glass of water and a seat. ¡°Where you come from lad?¡± ¡°Far away really, not a place worth mention.¡± ¡°Heh, trying out your luck in towns? Stay here and I¡¯ll teach you all you need to know,¡± the man offered. ¡°I appreciate it but I cannot accept it,¡± Boris declined politely. It was all going fine until Boris saw the ¡°piece¡± of land. A large field of green, stinking weeds that covered it whole. ¡°This is a piece of land?¡± Boris asked in disbelief. ¡°Of course, what else would you call that?¡± Boris grimaced. In his mind, a piece stood for something small. Although technically, a piece could be any size. ¡®I should have done some research before taking this up,¡¯ he regretted. ¡°Is there any chance I can decline this?¡± Fifty pennies for this was a little less. After accepting a request once, there were few ways out of it. Either both parties were in agreement, or lending the request to another or¡ª ¡°Fickle like the monsoon, you young men,¡± Welkins frowned red like a chameleon, ¡°I shall take this up and have you fined!¡± ¡°Right, I thought so. I will do this, but not for your threat,¡± Boris let it go. It was his mistake and he would deal with it. He squatted towards one end of the field and observed them. The stinker¡¯s weed had blade-like leaves and prominent, brown veins running along it. The stink originated from these veins, making the field smell like a bog of decaying food. Boris drew up his sleeves, scrunched his nose and got to work. Welkins took a chair behind him, looking over. A few buckets of water were hauled in and poured over the soil nearby, making it damp and easing the smell. Boris shoveled the roots with a small hoe, working into the soil and removing the roots manually. It was dull work and portions of roots would sometimes remain, making Welkins cry out complaints. Boris felt an angry snub of irritation but held it in, obeying Diana¡¯s advice. By the time he was done pulling half the weeds, he had developed a proper method and started working in reflex. He would haul in a bucket or two, concentrate on a small area and work meticulously, leaving Welkins satisfied. ¡°So?¡± Boris restarted the conversation, ¡°What exactly do you do here?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°Nothing?¡± ¡°These were my brother¡¯s lands, now they¡¯re mine. I still have to put them to use, that¡¯s why I am having it cleared.¡± ¡®By one guy less than half your age,¡¯ Boris snarled internally. He knew there was not a lot of money he would earn, so he decided to milk the guy for information instead. Most of what Welkins knew was mundane knowledge. He barely understood magic, beyond a few cantrips, and had no interest in battles and wars. He was highly interested in why the cattle chewed their cud, though. After receiving a lengthy explanation about the demons of gluttony inside the cattle¡¯s stomachs, Boris was finished with the first piece of land. The sun had turned warmer overhead but the stink was getting harsher. He had stacked the lump of weeds towards one side and turned to face the second and last piece of land, separated by a thin hedge. Uncharacteristically, he decided to finish the next field too. That would ensure he got his food and drinks, twice over. And he was reluctant to search for another request. Food and drinks turned out to be loaves of bread and mugs of water. He ate through them in satisfaction, asking for more. He would at least ensure that the penny pincher¡¯s supply of bread ran out, and he was always hungry. ¡°Only so much food I can give you lad.¡± ¡°Oh give up. You think I don¡¯t know you have plenty more. I will work your second field if you feed me well, or you can try your luck at hiring someone who will do your stinky work for fifty stinking pennies.¡± Welkins grumbled before coming out with more loaves of bread and a large mug that he thumped at the ground. It spilled white over. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Malted milk. Now hold your promise about the second field.¡± When Boris got to work on the second field, after consuming three grown men¡¯s worth of food, he noticed a sparrow come down and perch nearby. He offered it a small portion of the stinker¡¯s roots and it dug in, without hesitation. A few more birds fluttered in. Two, four, six, until finally it was whole drove of these that had settled around him. They chirped and chirruped, perching on his shoulders, pecking at his hair, climbing up his neck and running a ruckus. They wagged their tales and fluttered nearby, hindering his work. Thankfully, Welkins had returned to the comfort of his home, preventing a greater ruckus. ¡°Stop, stop! You are not getting any more of this!¡± Boris waved his hands around, trying to drive them away. They would flit back and forth, returning every time. Some pecked at his feet, some eyed his face curiously, and most gathered upon his head. Boris tried to think up ways to drive them away, remembering what Diana said this morning. He took a few calm breaths and tried to feel their Will. It was a soft and warm attachment to him. He was surprised. Apparently, the birds liked him. The way they showed their goodwill, however, was problematic. Boris faced a few of them and tried to communicate. ¡®A little help,¡¯ he spilled his Will around slowly as he wished so. The birds turned alert for a moment, staring at him. He bent over and shoveled, plucking a weed out. Then he picked another as the birds watched, their heads twisting in query. And in a while, some birds dove in. They dug into the ground, beaks grasping at a few roots and pulling them out. Some others dug for worms and rest continued to flock around him but didn¡¯t interfere. Boris felt a happiness overcome him, singing as he went along, uprooting the weeds. It was finished faster than he expected, and he felt a great deal of satisfaction from the irritating task. ¡°Finished so fast!¡± Welkins exclaimed. He approached to see Boris hogged by birds, a few droppings on his clothes, his hair scattered and face dusty. ¡°I swear I never thought something could be worse than pulling out all this,¡± Welkins commented, ¡°Do you have a knack for misfortune?¡± Boris smiled, ¡°I have a knack for many things.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Welkins spoke as he toured the field, poking a stick here and there, ¡°It seems to be done in order, nothing missed. Very well, you have completed your task, leave me the request and I will give you your reward.¡± ¡°And what of those?¡± Boris pointed to the large pile of stinker¡¯s weed. ¡°That,¡± Welkins lit up a small flame on his fingers, ¡°shall be burnt.¡± ¡°I want a small stock of them, wrapped in something if you could?¡± Welkins eyed him pitifully, as if he was a beggar asking for leftovers. ¡°You can take them, I will provide some cloth.¡± His task done and rewards received, Boris wandered out. People made way for him as he passed, pinching their noses. ¡®I need a bath. Now.¡¯ ------------------------ Elaine laughed when she located a half-naked Boris singing and washing himself near the well. ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked with a forced frown. She had woken up late to find everyone else gone. She wandered around in search and the enquiry led her here. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t come close. I stink,¡± Boris cautioned with both palms held upfront. He felt awkward now, remembering what he had done earlier. ¡°I can see that clearly, where were you?¡± Elaine retorted while pinching her nose. "Don''t you mean you can smell it?" Boris grimaced, feeling dejected as Elaine retreated. ''Maybe if I had soap or something,'' he rued. //"Ugh, it''s all the same. What were you doing really?" Elaine questioned again. "Earning my keep. Just give me sometime, I''ll come out decent, not smelly like- Boris halted his words to catch the small pouch Elaine had tossed into the air. "Um?" Boris stumbled with the pouch for a while, trying to think. "It''s perfumed mud," Elaine interrupted his confusion, "good for getting rid of smells." "Oh that''s, that''s great. Thanks a lot for this uh, um, gift?" He tried to smile nonsensically, hoping to convey gratitude. Inside his mind he was still contemplating what he had just received and why indeed? "Wait," Boris reconsidered, "Does this mean that you too¡ª "Hm?" Elaine gave him her usual dreadful stare, almost ready to pull his ear. "Ah, no, nothing at all, haha, thanks a lot again. Really, I don''t know how I would, like, do without this, haha." Elaine smiled. It was a heartfelt smile and he could almost feel her relief. It made Boris question why he had ever doubted her. She was perhaps the most honest person he had met in this world, one who cared and showed it. His heart grew queasy with that one smile and Boris mustered his courage, stuttering over a few times. "I am sorry, Elaine. I was wrong." "Are you?" she replied with the same smile, "Don''t be." He discovered a strong urge to hug her then and there, but he was half naked and she was fully armed. It wouldn''t have ended well. So he let the urge pass, regrettably, and went back to dressing up while Elaine waited a while away. "Well, are you done?" "Yes. How do I look?" Boris tried to show off the newest set of clothes he had bought with Diana. "Hm? Isn''t this how you always look?" Elaine raised an eyebrow playfully. "That''s cruel. I even went all out in choosing something that would make look eye-catching." And truly, Boris found a number of stares pointed their way. They only looked at Eliane though, or glanced his way briefly with a look of disdain. Could it be? Did the people here have no sense of fashion? Boris pitied them with a sorrowful expression. "Alright, alright, don''t make that face on me. You look fine, not better or worse. And that''s an honest opinion." "That''s all? I wonder where I went wrong." Boris scratched his forehead. "Maybe I should have gone with that yellow jacket and pink trousers after all." Elaine laughed abruptly, "Yellow jacket and pink trousers, what''s that? Haha, I can''t even imagine that. What did you wear them with, a clown''s hat?" She tapped his shoulders repeatedly in some kind of mock encouragement. "H-hey now," Boris stopped her, slightly conflicted. One one hand he really liked seeing her like this, on the other, he did not like her making fun of him. "I-if you don''t like my choices, why don''t you help me buy clothes the next time we are out." His face was sweating a little when he made that suggestion. "Hmm, I will consider doing it if you get off Diana''s tail." Elaine tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Eh? What''s that mean?" Boris asked surprisedly. "It means what it means," Elaine replied as she shrugged. "What the heck? I don''t get it!" Boris exclaimed. His stomach exclaimed louder, rumbling like low thunder creeping across the sky. Elaine laughed broadly at that. "It doesn''t look like you can think on an empty stomach. How about it," she offered with a wave of her hand, "want to eat with me?" She paused then, eyeing his uncertainty, and chuckled again. "Don''t worry. I''ll pay." Boris followed her with his head hung in agony. ''Am I that easy to read? And that cheap too?'' Setting his pride aside however, it was clear he was hungry. And while hunger needed satisfaction, pride did not. Besides, he didn''t want to miss a chance like this. Cheap or not. Despite trying to be modest, Boris could hardly contain himself when it came to eating. Recently, it had started feeling as if he had a bottomless pit in his stomach, that no matter how much he ate, he would never be satisfied. ''Ugh, I wonder if I will be able to go on like this. I don''t seem to have enough money to even feed myself,'' he pondered gravely. "As I said," Elaine emphasized before him, "you can order more if you want. The food here isn''t that costly." She wiped her face with a small cloth and tried to beckon a servant. A flurry of servants moved behind her and some patrons still kept looking at her discreetly. "No, no." Boris stopped Elaine and finished himself off by taking a big gulp of water. "I am satisfied. I was just thinking is all." He peered between her and the hall, waving both hands in denial and making sure no servant was coming anymore. "Are you sure?" Elaine asked with a slight disbelief. The way her lips curled made it feel truly honest and Boris lamented the kind of impression he had been making, of a ravenous hyena. "Rather, are you alright with paying for me?" He asked, "I am hardly one to complain but I seem to be eating a lot these days. And I don''t think I can pay you back anytime soon." The bill had already run into a couple pounds and Boris could not afford to pay it at all. "It doesn''t matter," Elaine hushed, "You are a companion of the heroes and it is very well your right to demand preferential treatment. A right that you stupidly surrendered, but a right nonetheless. Really, I wonder what made you decide that?" Despite the honest way she had put it, Elaine''s words pricked Boris. Was he no more than this in her eyes? Did she still not understand why he left, when he was merely a thorn waiting to be pruned? But he didn''t want to be rude to her. "Thank you for spending time with me," he replied with a smile. His voice turned a little stiff, a change he barely noticed. "And thank you for everything you have done for me. Instead of doubting your kindness, I understand it is better to show you gratefulness. I trust you Elaine, and I''ll trust you enough to wait until you decide to tell me what I want to know. And even if you don''t, I won''t ask about it." He stared into her wholeheartedly, trying to come across as truthful. "A-and so," Boris stuttered yet again, losing a part of himself into those imperceptibly deep irises. "And so someday sure, I will tell you too. But not today, I can''t. Trust me. I have too many things on my mind to even tell myself. But of this I am sure. I don''t regret my decision, and I doubt I ever will." Elaine pinched his nose hard right after that and he started waving in pain, crying, "It hurts! What the heck! Even though I was so honest!" "No, that is why, this doesn''t look right at all." Elaine pulled his cheeks rather experimentally. "Are you really Boris? Or did Diana replace you while I wasn''t looking?" "How is that even possible? Didn''t I just tell you to trust me?" Boris waved about frantically, pulling his cheeks out of her grip. Elaine enjoyed herself for a moment before she found the whole establishment staring at them in amusement, as if they were enacting a two person skit. "Ah, please excuse me," she bowed slightly before turning to drag Boris along. They made a soft exit after paying for the meal and turned outside. It was the last leg of dusk in Velur. Most shops had closed and the chill was growing, blowing in with small, uncomfortable gusts of wind. Boris walked alongside Elaine, his eyes wandering across the red horizon soon to disappear. Shades of grey had started to sprout around it but the clouds still wore outlines of pink and dirty orange. The dim light made for a curious picture as it receded from the houses and yards, outlining shapes in the silence of winter. It was a silence Boris loved but felt afraid of. And he prayed it would remain peaceful. "So?" Elaine turned to face him slightly, the light creating a fringe of rainbow as her hair danced in the wind. "As far as I get it, there is some reason behind why you decided to jump out the castle and into Diana''s lap to follow her to an alien land and embrace death along the way? And you might tell me that reason sometime between now and when we part, depending on your whims? And you don''t want me poking into your secrets or trying to help you back to the castle?" "Well, the way you put it is harsh," Boris answered while hugging himself to ward off the cold. "But yeah, that''s about it. There are some things I want to think upon before I answer you, some things I am reluctant to share right now." "Even Sophie?" Elaine asked without hesitation. "Especially Sophie," Boris sighed deeply. It was something even his friends did not know well enough. "You know, it''s not like I would be shocked if you revealed you had an amorous affair with some old woman and then she broke your heart. Secrets make women beautiful but they turn men untrustworthy and boys unruly." "Is it just me or are you getting even harsher than ever?" Boris cringed. "And that last part was clearly biased, wasn''t it? What do you take me for?" "As of now? A stupid, reckless, thoughtless, fool of an inept. Also untrustworthy and cowardly." "Well alright, but I can''t tell you," Boris uttered back. "And yet Diana knows doesn''t she?" Elaine had only meant that as a joke but Boris replied honestly. It annoyed her. "Yes, she knows," he stated as if it were a matter of fact. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You trust her, don''t you?" There was a hint of sarcasm in Elaine''s voice that Boris didn''t miss. "A companion of heroes just abandoned them to go with an elf, an elf whom he barely knows, and yet you won''t even tell me something like¡ª "And see, that''s difference between you and Diana," Boris cut her placidly. The way she reminded him of his position made him edgy. Why was it? Why couldn''t she see? "Pray tell me," Elaine''s voice suddenly turned dark and scathing. He felt it like a blade''s edge upon his throat. "What is it? What is that difference?" She still smiled but it was the same semblance of a smile Boris had seen again and again. He felt her will, an anger that he found irrational. But then, wasn''t anger supposed to be irrational? "She doesn''t see me for what I lack, Elaine," Boris spoke softly, trying not to enrage her any more. "She sees me for what I am." "And that means?" Her voice grew scarier. "In her eyes, I am someone who has both faults and merits, that''s how I feel. She doesn''t treat me as a weakling or an annoyance. But in your eyes and those of others, what am I?" He looked down at her with a sore smile. It made Elaine clench her fist. "I am just an inept to you, aren''t I?" Boris spoke in a low, invasive tone, "You all define me by my ineptitude, my weakness, my incapability. I am but a weight to the heroes in most eyes. A threat. A liability." "Are you finished?" Elaine asked. Boris felt her will expand out like a dark, ominous cloud. He wondered why he did not fear it as much. Was it because he had faced death too closely? Or was it because his own will was strong enough? It didn''t matter. He had lost either way. He just wanted to let her know but he ended up making her mad. "Is that how you think of us? Of Violet who tirelessly tried to heal you every time you got wrecked? Of people who didn''t want you to leave the castle for dangerous places? Is that how you take everything? You think everyone looks down on you in deprecation?" "No," he shook his head, "I didn''t mean¡ª "Well you certainly put it that way," Elaine asserted. "And you just deprecated everyone by doing so." "No, just¡ª "Don''t play with words Boris. I can''t for the whole world figure out what you want." "Just, let me do it my way, Elaine. I may be an idiot but even I want to learn to survive. I need to grow, to find a way back, and just getting somebody''s help won''t cut it." He tried putting it as clearly as possible but his mind was turning into a mess. "Alright," Elaine said, "have it your way. You seem to like that, don''t you?" She walked off without a glance or another word. Boris bent down on the road and held his head in both hands. Had he not just prayed for peace? Why was his prayer squashed so soon? He waited a while, till the streets were almost empty and he was sure he wouldn''t meet Elaine along the way, before making his way back to the inn. He did not know that Elaine herself had taken a long, winding path to the inn and that it was only a trick of fate that he missed her still. ¡°How much for a room?¡± he asked Tallin. ¡°What sort of room?¡± ¡°All sorts.¡± ¡°Ninety pennies for a wooden one bed, one day, nothing added. A hundred and twenty if you add a fireplace. A hundred and thirty if you need a quilt and forty additional for two meals.¡± Boris looked into his little pouch, pitying the hundred pennies there. ¡°Any chance of discounts?¡± he asked hopefully. He wanted some savings to last. ¡°I do not haggle.¡± Tallin was much less helpful when Diana wasn¡¯t present. ¡°What do you charge for the barn?¡± Boris finally relented. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°The barn, will you let me sleep there?¡± ¡°Ah, the barn,¡± the innkeeper paused in thought, ¡°You help me stack up the hay and feed the horses and you can use it for free.¡± Boris nodded and went to the barn. Cold was not much of a friend but it wasn¡¯t much of an enemy either. The innkeeper came with a few old quilts and threw them at him. ¡°Use them. I don¡¯t want people dying here.¡± ------------------------ When night came Elaine found herself alone with Diana in the spacious room. Seeing no signs of Boris'' return she cast a skeptical gaze at Diana who was all but ready to drift off to sleep. "I don''t see Boris?" Elaine said. ¡°Did you look in the barn?¡± Diana replied dryly. "Huh?" For a moment Elaine thought it was a joke, then she peered outside to find Boris rolled up in some tattered quilts upon a haystack. ¡°You''re insane,¡± she told Diana frankly. ¡°This is winter. He is just a kid.¡± ¡°He is old enough by human standards.¡± ¡°Don''t talk to me of human standards.¡± ¡°You should realize it already, woman,¡± Diana preached Elaine, ¡°He is not Abel. And he will never be. It is you who should let the dead rest. And let the ghosts lie.¡± Elaine found no retort and swallowed bitterly. She stole a brief glance at Boris and returned to her bed. Maybe Diana was right. But she would never admit it. ¡°Did you give him the quilts?¡± she asked instead. ¡°Who knows,¡± Diana answered even as she looked outside. The night reflected a soft shine to her otherwise bestial eyes. ------------------------ *ª¢* In commemoration of my fourth review! (Have any of you read that, please read this too) First, kudos VesperOz (you know why). Above six verses are your treat (and your spoiler..) Muhaha Second, and this is important. The next few sequences I have planned are kind of clashing and creating confusion for me. I am especially facing difficulty in thinking up a geography, a map. If any one can direct me to helpful links/posts for this, please do. Third, about the latest review. I will not go into details but three points caught my attention. 1- "After this our ¡°heroes¡± are treated like shit by just about everyone (they were treated like crap from the start) " 2- "Instead they never ask any questions, they never change anything. Everything is dictated to these ¡°heroes¡± and they go along meek as lambs..." 3- Boris is "perverted and probably unattractive." I want to ask if you really think that (honestly), because it means a failure in my storytelling and I would need a strong revamp of chaps to correct this. Lastly, to Lunitan, while I understand your point, you do not say this
Quote:TL;DR: Full of Japanese tropes, not original at all. Okay writing, horrible characters. Don¡¯t read.
when you have read "a couple of chapters" (especially when you are weaving in lies and slander cleverly) That''s all. Enjoy and leave your comments ^^ Abandoned sidestory + announcement I know you hate announcements... Bear with me. For a month, especially the past few weeks, I have been struggling hard with some RL issues. Unfortunately, I lost my house job today (courtesy of the understanding HOD) so I am in dire straits. I am not abandoning this story, but further releases will be highly erratic and unscheduled. In the case I find myself unable to continue I will reveal a summary of the entire storyline (What is Boris? Why were four summoned? What are dragons? etc. etc... even why Violet is a loli) The sidestory below is about "heroes" so do not read if you do not like. It is now abandoned because it does not fit in the story line. I am also posting an incomplete chapter after that (read at your own risk). I plan to do a release as soon as I can. PS: Thanks for the reviews and comments, I''ve read all of them. Love them.. _____________ Sidestory 1 Ray stood vigilantly on the open stony grounds. This battle arena was a practice area meant for soldiers, but they had been vacated out for him and the other two. He peered across the circular arena to see Sylvia and Claire, both enthusiastic for battle. Ray had clearly not expected this. When he had asked Knight Guardian Arthur for further instructions, Arthur had asked him to smoothen what he had already learnt and put it into practice. Ray had garnered it to mean a daily repetition of moves and maneuvers but he was instead advised to have a three-way duel with Sylvia and Claire. Ray very much doubted they would take each other seriously if they fought, but the situation turned out otherwise. He could feel the tension in their eager eyes, an earnest desire to duel and a formidable will to win. It was astonishing to see two of his good friends turn into warriors. What he did not realize was that each of them had been promised an exclusive day with Ray, in the event that they won the duel. He would learn later that he had no inkling of choice in the matter. The arena was much simpler than the summoning chamber. There were no seats for audience and no boundaries, only a rough outline on stone to mark its extent. It stood farther from the residences of soldiers and closer to armory and utilitarian facilities, the gap between the two places left open to train. Small stone pedestals sat on one side, possibly for commanders to sit if they were observe. The only one observing today was Grey, his robes still gleaming with lunar radiance. ¡°Alright, the rules are the same as before,¡± Grey spoke as he held his hand in the air, creating anticipation among the participants. Ray placed his grip firmly on the hilt, his left hand held a buckler as he took a stance. He stood in full body steel armor for defense. Sylvia stood obliquely to his right, about twenty feet away. He could cover the distance in a blink, if she allowed it. Claire stood obliquely to his left, more than thirty feet away. She would be difficult to deal with, especially if they decided to team up. ¡°Begin,¡± a soft voice resonated through the air, jerking the participants into action. A lightning bolt tore through the air even as Ray jumped avoiding the yin restraints that had emerged at his feet. The shielding barrier clashed with lightning, deflecting it well. An arrow followed in its wake, following Ray¡¯s trajectory in mid-flight. Ray flipped back in the air, missing the arrow easily as he arrived on the ground. A fireball hit the shielding barrier and lost itself. A second arrow awaited him eagerly but lost him. Ray turned with an unimaginable speed as he jumped. The arrow passed through the air where he had been, colliding with another fireball that had arrived. It did not look like a jump, Ray was hurled almost horizontally through the air. A small cloud of dust burst out of crushed stone that had hurled him and his parabolic path lead towards Claire. But he found no surprise on her face, he did not even find her face. Claire was already darting sidelong, circling his path as another arrow left her bow. It arrived with precision at his landing spot. Ray paid it no heed, it was just a warning shot. His metal greaves met the arrow in heavy splendor, countering its assault with their weight as he skidded into a run. Claire did not even confirm the result, the yin thread upon her thumb efficiently pulled a second arrow right after the first one discharged and she adjusted her aim instantly, targeting Ray¡¯s legs again. Ray jumped slightly in the air as the next arrow arrived, avoiding it by a narrow margin even as the trail of ice behind him halted and erupted up. He spun in the air, swinging his sword in a wide imprecise arc of a semi circle. A gash of air erupted all around. It crushed the ice behind him and pierced through it towards Sylvia, distracting her momentarily out of her next spell. On the other side, the same gash stepped into where Claire should have been, but Claire had already left that spot, her next arrow nocked for action. It was a slower, more deliberate action. Ray immediately pulled up his buckler even as he strengthened the shielding barrier to full force. He darted headstrong towards Claire all the same. The arrow arrived in a moment and passed by the buckler, Ray cast a suspicious glimpse as the arrow then curved in and exploded, hurtling against his barrier with a screeching sound. The hexagonal symmetry of the barrier shone briefly out of translucence. It distracted him enough for the next arrow to arrive. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Ray focused the shielding barrier towards his back as he kept running, his sword curved around his buckler to deflect the next arrow, he pushed it aside with enough force to crack it in the middle and brushed aside, wary of any explosion that would follow soon after. What followed was another arrow accompanied by a barrage of fireballs from behind, but Ray was ready now. He sprinted as the shielding barrier deflected a few fireballs that caught up, his buckler was held upfront and glowing with magic to repel projectiles as his sword swung upon the next arrow curtly, diverting its arrowhead to the ground near his feet. It would explode immediately. Ray augmented strength to the limit, his feet crunched into the stony ground as he pumped them hard with mana. He pushed right when the arrow exploded disastrously, the combined force hurtling him suddenly at Claire faster than she could react. A curtain of dust and a rumble followed him. He tore through the next incoming arrow with brute force, parrying another with a buckler even as he missed the next barrage of fireballs. He landed straight before Claire, his sword tracing an arc into her as his feet gripped hard at the ground. His sword met the crossed dirks of Claire with a sharp clang of metal against metal, his momentum only impeded by the yin restraints that had erupted the last minute. Ray immediately augmented the barrier around his feet, repelling the yin restraints that had him. Strong magic overpowered weak magic, and only one could exist at a point. His barrier was much stronger than most spells, depending on the amount of mana he poured in. Sparks screeched as the blades clashed. Claire pushed the dirks as she drew them part in opposite arcs. The sword twisted back out of the force, leaving both of them open. Ray reacted faster. His hilt rushed in as his sword twisted out from the impact, Claire¡¯s dirks finding a new enemy in his buckler. The hilt crashed into Claire in a pummeling strike that threw her hard over the ground and out the arena circumference. One defeated, one remaining. Ray turned to Sylvia immediately afterwards, continuing his sprint in a circle. He dodged the incoming barrage of fireballs, deflecting some with the barrier. Those fireballs were powerful magic, he was losing a substantial chunk of mana each time his barrier deflected them. He would run out of it faster than Sylvia, she had an enormous reserve after all. Ray chose to conserve his mana as he toned down his barrier and concentrated it on a smaller area before him. He dodged most of the fireballs and the few who passed through the barrier were weakened and easy to deflect with the help of his sword. A wave of ice surged outward, providing him no corner to dodge. He leapt in, carving the ice into shreds with continuous strokes and creating a pathway through. He had augmented resistance at his feet and the yin restraints that repeatedly snapped behind him were given little chance to confine him. But his mana was draining fast, the attacks were getting more aggressive every moment. Ray doubted his priorities as he pressed onward through the blizzard of ice that continued its assault. His advance was slow but steady, the small barrier was directed towards targeted lightning spells as his sword deflected and scattered other elemental attacks. Sylvia could not contain him but he had no way of overpowering her yet. The ground was soon covered in ice, trying to freeze his movements. Ray concentrated mana at his feet, creating a thin layer of heat that melted the ice. There was not much time left. He augmented strength once more and pushed, softer against the ice. It exploded as he slid forward with force, concentrating all is efforts into the barrier that deflected more blows of ice and lightning. Lightning blasted ice into pillars of steam. The explosions were avoided as he turned, using his sword as a support and bending his knees. The zigzag route put him out of Sylvia¡¯s direct aim and he pushed with augmented strength every now and then until he was near her, skating on the ice. Sylvia conjured away the ice immediately and he felt friction retard his approach as his shoes skidded on stony ground. He plunged again with augmented strength, the last of his mana reserves were about to extinguish. It was time to employ it. He was within five feet of Sylvia as she prepared her spell, a blast of air probably. He reined in every modicum of mana as he stepped forward, a picture of intimidation formed in his head as he let it loose like a wave. It spread through the air carrying fear and dread. Sylvia froze over in visible shock as the spell dispersed, her hands gripped her staff as she raised it in defense against his sword. The staff still touched the ground as Ray swept in, too slow to intercept his sword. Ray waved his sword confidently, ready to strike the staff aside. The next strike would make Sylvia surrender. But he was jerked back abruptly. The ground caught his feet in surprise as Sylvia extended her staff further, intercepting his sword mid-swing. She bent forward weakly and snapped her fingers, they exploded with sound. The shockwave threw him off, armor and all, out of the grounds. Sylvia had expected him to use Warrior¡¯s Spirit and that had saved her, though it was still unnerving. Ray lay disconcerted on the ground as Sylvia smiled, it was dangerous but she had won herself a date. All was fair in love and war. ______________ 14. Decisions Then, on with the chapter... ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Twice in summer doth it occur, once in spring¡¯s delight On mid-winter¡¯s waxed full moon and by autumn¡¯s first of light When the heavens shall reveal truth beyond the mortal sight Pure and holy, firm and final, timeless blaze of godly might Shall again they wax and wane, over fifteen full decades Seventeen centuries of the cycle, yet their might never fades¡­ Durham Dwin Salvem sat silently upon the golden throne of Cumaria. His legs were crossed over in worry and his hands clasped in thought. Below him sat the Council to the throne; a group of caustic nobles ready to go at each other''s throats if needed. Durham kept them silenced by ritualistic taps of his foot. Each tap sent a dissonant slap of dissent spreading through the marble floors and up the sandstone walls until they reflected off the tapestries and curtains as dull vibrations. He ran his eyes through the circle before him, counting the thorns by his side. The High Lords were quietly disquiet. Most staring into their empty glasses of wine as if they would fill up miraculously. The High Commanders beside them were eagerly subdued. Twitching like hunting dogs wanting to be released. Then there were the four old counsels he would rather did not exist. They were little help beyond small conspiracies. Although King Durham regarded these people as friendly, he wished they had been enemies. They would have been so much easier to conquer and subjugate. ¡°My King,¡± Welmar coughed beside him. ¡°Yes, indeed.¡± Durham sighed. He waved a hand and some more people entered the distant half of the circle, seating themselves beside the nobles. Five Guild Meisters from the Union of Guilds were mostly reserved and obedient. But the Archpriest and the Archpriestess clearly did not like being sidelined. Durham took the displeased cough of Baala, the Archpriestess of Irilea, with satisfaction. It eased his tension to see her tensed. He thanked Irilea mentally, praying that her Archpriestess would soon die of fits. Mercifully. ¡°Gavin,¡± Durham voiced. ¡°Is everything in order?¡± ¡°Yes, My Lord,¡± Chief Minister Gavin bowed and pulled out a scroll that threatened to roll down the floor and out of the court before he restrained it skillfully and held it taught to the light. After long unpleasant pleasantries and frivolous formalities that Durham silently slept through, a small blow of horn awoke him to the real meeting. Durham coughed loudly, tapping once more at the innocent carpet below him. ¡°Very well. Before I begin, Lord Warywell, you had something to say?¡± Gavin nodded at one of the High Lords. ¡°High Lord of Haal, Cantwin Warywell.¡± ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Cantwin started in a firm, persuasive tone, ¡°if I may, have you heard that the army strength in the north dwindles? Commander Welmar''s recent visit bears evidence to that.¡± Durham raised an eyebrow. A High Lord did not deal with military matters. He had taken special care to make it so. He asked Warywell to continue. ¡°Your Majesty,¡± the High Lord resumed with the High Commander of North glaring daringly at him, ¡°we have lost more than just lands to the orcs. We have fewer men and lesser crops.¡± Durham raised his eyebrow higher. Where was this going? ¡°We cannot force more men into the army. We have fewer hands to work and more mouths to feed. I beseech you, please take back the law on conscription. Haal cannot afford it anymore.¡± Cantwin finished with a curtsying bow. ¡°Froddel,¡± King Durham asked the High Commander of North, ¡°how many have we recruited this year to the northern regiments?¡± ¡°Four hundred so far, Your Majesty,¡± Froddel answered stiffly. King Durham scratched his chin in thought. ''We will need at least a thousand,'' he pondered, ''and more when the time comes.'' He looked at Gavin in query. ¡°Your Majesty, their yield has declined twice over the past five years. I''d say it has more causes than Lord Cantwin speaks of,¡± Gavin answered politely. ¡°You are blaming me? We are the poorest province in the nation and yet we send more to the army than any other.¡± Cantwin went defensive at the accusation. ¡°Indeed,¡± the High Lord of Bassyn chimed in. ¡°Though I heard the taxes under your reign have gotten rather unjustifiable. Your men may find the army a better place than the fields.¡± He smiled cunningly at Cantwin. ¡°You say that after you refuse to supply us with grains and goods, Neverenuf?¡± Cantwin retorted bitterly. ¡°I sent you enough petitions to fill your castle whole. While you sent us half-spoiled grains in shoddy carts.¡± ¡°Please,¡± High Lord Justus intercepted, ¡°let us not indulge in pointing fingers before our King. It pains me to see what the High Lords have become.¡± Baala chuckled softly after him. ¡°You have something to add, Holy Archpriestess?¡± Justus raised an eye. ¡°Pardon me,¡± Baala covered her mouth elegantly, ¡°I am not very used to seeing men justify faults with reasons.¡± ¡°A brash accusation,¡± Gavin remarked. ¡°Is it?¡± she replied with a smile. ¡°I am not one to say but isn''t it common knowledge that the central provinces have been hoarding wealth while leaving both North and South to bleed dry?¡± ¡°How convincing. Will we next be blamed for the drought and the landfalls too?¡± Justus asked smilingly. ¡°Such groundless accusations cannot even be masked under a shallow visage, Your Holiness,¡± he added towards a slightly miffed Baala. ¡°Groundless?¡± Cantwin repeated sharply. ¡°Then why is it you produce twice your need and sell less than a quarter of the excess? Even the Merchants Guild is no help beyond pleasantries and pretenses.¡± ¡°Do not accuse us of such trickery, Lord Cantwin. We deal with trade and not policies,¡± a Guild Meister countered. ¡°That is your domain.¡± ¡°Enough!¡± Durham announced from his throne. ¡°I have not assembled you all so you can tear my kingdom apart. It is already down to its last vestiges.¡± ¡°I beg your pardon, my King,¡± Archpriest Godill said, ¡°But I am indeed intrigued over why you have summoned all of us to this. Was it not enough to call the High Lords alone?¡± The old man''s eyes gleamed with a light that Durham despised. He had not wished to invite either the Archpriest of Thiracus or the Archpriestess of Irilea. But he had no choice. The Orders held their own prestige in his kingdom. ¡°You should know why, Archpriest of Thiracus,¡± Durham answered sternly. ¡°I had hoped to resolve some issues before you all met the heroes.¡± Faces lit up at his comment. ¡°Most graceful of you, My Lord,¡± the Archpriestess Baala perked up. ¡°I had my misgivings that our King had lost his faith.¡± ¡°And what faith do you speak of Your Holiness?¡± Gavin enquired solemnly. ¡°Surely you do not question his faith in merciful Irilea?¡± His face went hard in reproach. ¡°Pardon me,¡± Baala replied with another smile, ¡°I only spoke of his faith in his own subordinates. Trust, as you would say.¡± ¡°I wonder if you play with your faith the same way you play with your words, Holy Archpriestess,¡± Gavin insinuated. ¡°Enough, Gavin,¡± the King restrained him. ¡°No good will come of this. Warywell, I will deal with your problem in time. Let us move on to the real issue.¡± He cast a cautionary look at Baala but she did not twitch an eyelid. Her face was a mask of masks, draped in so many layers of powder and perfumes that Durham sometimes wondered if she even had any skin beneath. ¡°My apologies, Sire,¡± Gavin bowed and turned to face the Council members formally. ¡°As you may know, His Majesty Durham Dwim Salvem conducted the seventh successful summoning of heroes under the first light of autumn. The ceremony was of utmost secrecy and due to some considerations, you were denied the right to meet the heroes in person. Such considerations are however circumstantial and His Majesty has decided to finally hold a celebration to allow you acquaintance with the heroes.¡± The members of the Council, especially the High Lords, beamed at the proposal. They had been long wanting to meet with the heroes who would fight the next Infernal war, but the King had vehemently denied their requests. ¡°The heroes shall be returning after successfully completing great ordeals, including subduing multiple bands of bandits along the eastern territories. Incidentally,¡± Gavin continued without a shift in his tone, ¡°the heroes also discovered an abandoned labyrinth near the cliffs of Marbess. It lay beneath a hideout of bandits and was filled with demons.¡± He dropped the bomb in the courtroom without a crease of his brow. ¡°Slikhand,¡± the King asked the High Lord of Raelly, ¡°would you have any idea what a horde of bandits was doing with demons inside your territory?¡± Slikhand turned pale at the sudden revelation. He rubbed his greasy hands under the table in terror. He had some notion of what had transpired near Tabin and he had ordered the village burnt to save his hide. Had he known that Sodor was smuggling in demons somehow, he would have stabbed the bastard''s heart instead of shaking his hand. No amount of gold was worth Durham''s displeasure. ¡°Your Majesty,¡± he swallowed, ¡°I assure you I had no idea¡ª ¡°That makes you all the more worthless,¡± Durham interrupted. ¡°Tell me Slikhand, do I appoint you High Lords so that you can sleep upon a pile of gold while bandits ravage around. And do I pay the Explorer''s guild,¡± King Durham ran a glare into one of the Guild Meisters, ¡°so that my heroes can discover demons in my territory for you? Or is it so they may stumble across labyrinths that none of you have any idea ever existed?¡± ¡°Why is it that I must deploy my army for your responsibilities?¡± the King asked rhetorically. The Council fell into a subdued silence and shock. Many of them had no news that demons had invaded inland. Those that did were not about to expound that fact before their displeased King. ¡°Even more entertaining are the reports from the Maiden of Light who followed a trail right into the forest of Laur,¡± King Durham continued. ¡°She had found a labyrinth there, full of the Cult''s followers. And she reports,¡± the King paused, ¡°that it had goblins and an ogre, summoned by the Cult.¡± The Council members gawked at each other in bewilderment. Godill and Baala almost went red from the King''s revelation. ¡°That can''t be,¡± High Lord Slikhand proclaimed. ¡°Your word against hers,¡± Durham rebuked coldly, ¡°Which do you think is more reliable?¡± He eyed the other members disapprovingly and stood up, raising a heavy hand to keep them seated. Durham descended slowly from his throne and circled the room in heavy, threatening steps, as if indicating it was his domain. Eyes followed him like the moon followed the sun¡ªever a beat too slow and hiding inside the darkness, but always steady. ¡°I have waited and waited and waited...¡± King Durham began, ¡°not pointed a sword at Sumaria, not a spear at Sturmhelm. I have swallowed all the bitterness and enmity... and regret.¡± He climbed up to his throne again and stared back from above his shoulders. ¡°My patience is not indolence,¡± he said with narrowed eyes, ¡°and it is not surrender. It is not forgiveness. I have been waiting and preparing, for the moment when we can take back all that we have lost. Our lands, our mines, our ports... our wealth.¡± He looked at the High Lords in emphasis. ¡°Our rightful place too,¡± he added towards the Archpriest. ¡°And now, when my preparation must bear fruit, when I have finally summoned heroes by the strongest alignment ever,¡± Durham recounted, ¡°I find myself faced by the failures of my incompetent subordinates. You sit like a bunch of buffoons watching a parade of monkeys and hooting along! Should I stand and watch as we lose everything to traitors and savages?¡± ¡°No,¡± the King stressed, ¡°I swear by Iriliea''s mercy, if any of you, and I mean any of you, continues this charade of incompetence, I will have you skewered and set to flames,¡± he said in a low, serious voice. ¡°I will feed your ashes to the demons and your bones to wyverns. Do not make me do so...¡± The court froze into a sense of dread. Some considered Durham a fool but the King followed his threats well. ¡°I want every goddamned labyrinth entrance mapped,¡± Durham ordered. ¡°Send scouts and mercenaries as you wish, but be prompt about it. And I want these entrances manned and guarded. Do not let a single Cultist into them! Collapse any labyrinths they occupy. Show no mercy, for I will show none if you fail.¡± Durham issued specific orders for each person in the court, reminding them where their responsibilities lay. He was almost finished when the Archpriestess of Irilea stood up in petition. ¡°If I may be so forward, Your Majesty,¡± Baala posed daringly with a slight bow, ¡°I am honored to hear you speak so truthfully of the Cult''s evil. Truly, you understand the trouble they pose to our lands since time immemorial. But your men,¡± she cast an eye towards the High Lords, ¡°seem ill equipped to deal with them. Despite decades of effort, I see Solomonists sully our lands like never before. Is it not your intention then, to use every method available to root out this evil?¡± she questioned softly. ¡°What are you suggesting, Archpriestess?¡± King Durham looked at her skeptically. ¡°That you would ask of us, Your Grace, to deal with them. They are our greatest enemies after all and we know them better than any man of yours,¡± Baala pointed to herself and the Archpriest beside her demurely. Durham did not like where she was leading. Whispers passed between the Council members about the implications. Some of them felt at ease from passing the responsibility yet some others felt even more threat from Baala''s words. ¡°Your knights are an unpredictable force, Archpriestess. Rusted but zealous, they may lead to an end far less desirable and expected,¡± Durham brushed her off. Currying favor with the Orders was unfavorable. Given a foot, they could take a mile. ¡°I beg your pardon,¡± Baala persisted, ¡°zealous they may be, but rusted they are not. And their zeal makes them faithful to their cause. Should you allow them, Your Majesty, they will not fail. And you will not need to divert your resources in a time when you most need them.¡± ¡°Would you then take the responsibility for their actions?¡± Chief Minister Gavin asked. He cast a meaningful look at the King and Durham nodded. ¡°I intend to,¡± Baala replied, ¡°What do you say Archpriest Godill?¡± she asked the Archpriest who was holding a look of mild amusement by now. ¡°Indeed,¡± Godill answered firmly, ¡°as long as they are Halberds of my Order, they shall remain faithful to me, and I to the King. For the glory of Thiracus, I shall stake my honor for the King.¡± ¡°You do not do the King a favor, Your Holiness, may you remember it well. It is the King that does you favor if he ever allows you to wage your holy war,¡± Gavin clarified smoothly. ¡°And that favor you shall both owe him lifelong.¡± He looked at Baala and Godill decisively. They nodded in agreement and Durham smiled with satisfaction. It was as he expected of Gavin to spin the situation around. Instead of him owing the Orders, now the Orders owed him. ¡°As you wish,¡± King Durham accepted, ¡°I shall allow your knights the authority to proceed against the Cult. They will receive aid and compensation if necessary. Should they fail, however, be prepared to face the consequences,¡± he added a stark reminder. Discontent whispers went around the Council but none of them opposed the decision. Durham assuaged some of their worries as the meeting continued and when it had ended, most left with a sense of satisfaction and a greater fear within. Welmar accompanied the High Commanders to a further meeting and the court dispersed. ¡°Gavin,¡± Durham called the last person left. Gavin Redmay walked up to the king in humble, measured steps and bowed. The man carried himself with a sense of suave humility, a manner that King Durham found both rare and admirable. His clear cut brows and clean shaved chin looked smart and his copper eyes were humble with regard. And yet it was his voice the King preferred, a tone devoid of sycophancy but full of respect. He was one of the King''s favorites and his recent absence did nothing to change that. ¡°Yes, Your Majesty?¡± he asked softly. ¡°How went the issue with Sturmhelm? Did they lend a ear at all?¡± The King had been far too busy with other troubles to ask this before. ¡°With all due respect Your Majesty, Sturmhelm still holds us in disregard. They think of us as cowards holding the crutch of heroes and a fair amount of them doubt the summoning too. As it stands, they will not send any help before we march on or compel them to do so otherwise. Their Emperor is a ruthless tyrant after all. He has no sense of fairness or etiquette. He merely follows his whims,¡± Gavin replied scornfully. ¡°Much like the last one, eh?¡± Durham remembered bitterly. ¡°I apologize,¡± Gavin bowed again. ¡°Do not bow Gavin,¡± Durham raised an arm, ¡°I do not blame you. It is just our fate to end up with brutal savages as allies. But I still hope we can use them. For we need every force we can get, no matter how hateful or faithless, if it is worthwhile.¡± He paused in thought and added, ¡°Except the Sumarians, never the Sumarians.¡± ¡°As you wish, My Lord,¡± Gavin complied. ¡°As for the Halberds and Shields, keep an eye on them,¡± Durham ordered. ¡°Indeed I will. But they are already trapped,¡± Gavin said. Durham smiled pleasantly. ¡°Of course. Should they fail, we will disband them. Should they succeed we will reward them. And no matter which, we will make them into a new force. One that obeys the King and not the Order. You played that well, Gavin.¡± ¡°Your praise overshadows me, Your Majesty.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be modest. How are the preparations for the heroes? I trust you have enough measures to keep those sycophants from misleading them,¡± Durham added. ¡°Do not worry sire, I have a staff of skilled retainers for that purpose.¡± ¡°Then I will leave that to you. I swear though, the heroes have not even awakened and trouble is already knocking our door. Just when will the Scourge come.¡± ¡°About that,¡± Gavin paused, asking consent. ¡°Speak,¡± Durham ordered. ¡°My Lord, is it truly wise to trust the words of the Maiden? She is but a woman and a rather clever one at that,¡± Gavin expressed his distrust. ¡°Have you not kept an eye on her all this while?¡± the King smiled knowingly. ¡°I have, Your Grace. But even though she appears harmless, it''s a woman we are¡ª ¡°Desist, Gavin. I trust her to do what is right and that is what she has done all this while. She may have a woman''s heart but she has a soldier''s mind. Elaine Sithe is truly fit to be the Maiden of Light and under her, I trust the Legion to prove of great use. Would you now cast a doubt on Grey''s granddaughter as well? The only archimage capable of summoning heroes this time? And on Diana of Silverdeens who once stopped the Tragedy of Dunsig and fought our war against Sumaria? We have enough enemies within and we know whom to trust and whom not to. Do not doubt your King, Gavin, for he shall doubt you in return.¡± ¡°Forgive my insolence, sire,¡± Gavin apologized. The King waved a hand in amnesty. ''Besides,'' he repeated inside his head, ''the blood of heroes will never betray the light and never accept the darkness.'' It was something he had been told again and again. It was something he had witnessed. But some truths were too precious for even the most faithful of his men. ¡°Of course, I only intend to keep Violet alongside the heroes, the rest are not as amenable to my commands. In fact, I am thankful Diana left with the inept.¡± ¡°The inept?¡± Gavin asked curiously. ¡°Ah, you have not heard have you? Well, that is as expected. I suppressed this information before it could go outside. This time we had a little trouble in the summoning. A companion of the heroes somehow wandered in.¡± The way Durham narrated it was as if it was a small mistake, as if a horse had wandered outside its stable at night. Gavin looked wide-eyed. This was not something he had known. For a fourth one to be summoned, would the sun rise from west next? ¡°A small inconvenience. No matter, it has been dealt with and he will not be coming back anymore,¡± the King stated with a flimsy wave of his hand. ¡°But it is out of order, unheard of. If this is true, then have not things been going wrong since the very beginning?¡± Gavin asked anxiously. ¡°What has happened has happened Gavin. I waited until the most opportune moment. I got the best I could. We need to deal with the troubles before us now. And the Cult comes first. I do not want a civil strife before we even step foot into the demon lands. Let us work on that for now.¡± "Alright," Gavin gulped and begged pardon from his attendance. King Durham condescended and Gavin Redmay turned to walk away. Now that he was back, there were tons of problems to deal with. By Irilea''s benevolence, he would not let things go downhill even if he had to stake his life and honor. Gavin doubted it would come to it though. He had prepared for everything to come, be it God or the Devil himself. He heaved a sigh of relief as he passed into the courtyard, taking in the beautiful sight of flowers blooming despite the winter. The scent brought pleasant thoughts to his mind. Although the King still trusted that woman, he had judiciously excluded her from the heroes'' party. It was a wise decision. Elaine Sithe was trouble. She was faithless and barbaric, and impure of blood. Even her life was shadowy. Secrets made a woman sinister. Oh, if only all the women were made in the merciful image of Irilea, Gavin lamented. But there was no like to Irilea''s mercy and compassion. She had plucked a thorn in his path and granted him peace. The prince would no longer be led astray and the heroes would walk the path of true light. Gavin drew an artifact of Irilea from within his clothes and held it to the light. The holy Amaurstone shone with an otherworldly gleam. Gavin''s eyes reflected the shine with veneration and his lips kissed the gem humbly. "Bless me Irilea, for I walk thy chosen path in faith undeterred," he prayed. "Amen to that," a voice alerted him and Gavin hid the pendant hurriedly before turning to face the person. "Oh, Your Highness, I apologize for my unworthy behavior." "There is no shame in faith, Gavin. My father would never hold you high otherwise." Prince Vervan smiled at him in appreciation. His blue eyes reminded Gavin of the late queen, a memory he tried to forget. "I am most honored by your praise, Your Highness Vervan. It seems you have just returned from a long and arduous journey. I pray you have been well. I had heard you had some change of heart along the way," Gavin replied smoothly. "As you said Gavin," prince Vervan replied, "those strongholds are impenetrable. We will need a gargantuan force to penetrate an inch into the Orc defense." "Do not despair My Lord, for Irilea''s mercy extends to all. You have yet to see the gargantuan force the Scourge are." "Then I will trust you and pray that Irilea bestows upon us more mercy than she does upon the orcs," the prince replied playfully. There was a candor to his behavior that people, even Gavin, found majestic. The prince would make a great King one day and Gavin wanted to ensure he kept away from vile influences like Elaine. "Ah, true that is. And Irilea loathes the vile and brands the sinners, so may they turn in their shame to death and disease." "Strong words. Are those from the Archpriest?" The prince enquired. "Hardly," Gavin scoffed, "they have never read the scriptures in enough depth to speak so." "Hah, well I suppose someday I will read the same scriptures then. Good day, Gavin," Vervan waved him away as he said so. Gavin bowed goodbye and, for the briefest of moments, his eyes caught a glint of familiar red inside the prince''s clothing. The next instant it was gone and the prince had turned away from his sight. Gavin took to his own way, doubting what his eyes had seen. He decided he had seen wrongly. After all, there could only ever have been one of it. The Amaurstone was a relic to be bestowed and not a gem to be bought. ------------------------ Boris ran fiercely behind the wagons, disregarding the weight of stones pressed against his body. Cold wind slipped through his clothes like a shy animal, ruffling them up noisily. It tickled his skin through the droplets of sweat and dulled his thudding heart. Then it took off without a word, leaving him strangely comfortable. Despite himself, Boris hummed while he raced. Two snowbills followed his tune playfully, chirping around and circling him. He didn''t allow them to settle¡ªit would be a nuisance¡ªand willed them a safe distance away whenever they tried to get closer. They were long, slender birds with blue-green plumage and a flowing bifid tail that left a thin vapor trail in the air. Alone, the vapor line was barely perceptible but up above, where these birds migrated south in flocks of hundreds, the sky itself had become their canvas. Evanescent, abstract patterns emerged and morphed in the sky, and imitated snow drifting amongst the clouds. Boris had little time to admire it currently. A Scythian guard raced eagerly beside him. ¡°Nasty little bugger!¡± Halkone barked at Boris. ¡°You won''t last much longer! That''s three hours since dawn.¡± They were both keeping up with the rear wagon where they had been posted. Boris had stones strapped across his body. Diana''s gift. The Scythian, in contrast, carried a heavy bastard sword that swung monstrously while he ran. ¡°Give it up old man. You''re out of breath. It would become a joke if you died trying to outrun a kid.¡± Boris mocked the Scythian while breath escaped his own lips mechanically, in little puffs of air that turned his tone raspy. His windpipe then swallowed greedily and his lungs pumped. He had to thank Diana''s breathing exercises for this. He had never imagined he could keep pace with the wagons so long. Endurance had not been his forte. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Joke is on you, boy,¡± Halkone retorted. ¡°You can''t outlast a Scythian.¡± He sprinted in heavy spurts and slow jogs while Boris kept an even pace. ¡°I would outlast you to the end of the world,¡± Boris replied in the same crude dialect Halkone was using. He formed a habit to talk in the same manner he heard and did it unconsciously, fluently even. He changed tongues the way people changed expressions. And though he did not know it, it had earned him a reputation among both merchants and guards. In time, the long run started to take a toll on both of them and Halkone waved a heavy hand through the air in resentment, aiming at Boris. Boris dodged and changed his course a little. ¡°Hey now,¡± he grumbled at Halkone, ¡°that''s not fair play.¡± The Scythian was now slightly ahead of him and just a little shaky, but as snobbish as ever. ¡°Huh?¡± Halkone bluffed. ¡°I don''t know what you are talking about? I just felt like waving my hands around a bit, they''ve been getting stiff lately.¡± As he said so he waved both his hands wildly yet again, putting a show of the enormous muscle they contained. Boris stressed his will in response and let out killing intent, trying to intimidate Halkone. Halkone twitched, his face refusing to betray surprise, and continued defiantly. ¡°That again!¡± he bawled out. ¡°Those tricks won''t work anymore little boy. A warrior''s spirit doesn''t work well in a weakling''s body.¡± ¡°We will see about that,¡± Boris mused out loud. He had started feeling drained. Focusing his will was taxing. He had to repress his mind, subdue his emotions and impulses, and channel the entirety of his intent on a single impulse, then aim at a target. It looked perfect in theory but never worked in practice. It was like channeling a dam through a straw and using the water jet to shoot someone. Exhausting, awkward and unreliable. Boris turned his attention back to the caravan as it slowed and the horses whinnied in approval, ready for a break. The merchants seemed to favor efficiency over comfort. They moved briskly with a few short rests when the drivers tended to the horses, had a meal and confirmed that everything was in good order. Boris slowed along with the wagons and used his will on the snowbills instead. A smug Halkone took an easy lead but soon found his face assaulted by a flock of birds. In that moment of distraction the scythian waved his hands in fury, scattering the noisy birds. The next moment, Boris had vanished. Halkone swore as he forced his legs to go faster. They disobeyed shakily and he felt a weakness to his ankles as he tumbled over like a barrel, rolling on the cold ground in frustration before he regained himself. A figure flitted past him the same moment. ¡°Hey!¡± he cried out loud at the figure that was now running faster than ever, catching up to the stopped line of wagons. ¡°You pulled my leg!¡± Halkone shouted and brushed his grazed hand that hurt more than it bled. ¡°I don''t know what you are talking about,¡± Boris replied only once he had jumped into the rear wagon and claimed his victory. He had both his hands raised in a sign of honesty and a sinister smile upon his face while one of the guards patted him gladly. One of those who had won the bet. ¡°It looked to me more like you pulled your own leg,¡± Boris added. ¡°Trickster,¡± Halkone insulted. ¡°Loser,¡± Boris replied. ¡°This is not over boy,¡± Halkone grumbled. ¡°Let''s see how long you can keep up.¡± He had just lost a sum of money in the bet. Although it did not go to Boris, the other guards were gladly enjoying their earnings. ¡°Some other day,¡± Boris told Halkone, Diana was already waiting. And Diana disliked waiting. He promptly untied the weight of stones and wrapped away his usual meal of corn and eggs mashed in some strange bread. He disembarked the wagon and went to receive his pounding a little distance away where Diana stood. All breaks were training sessions. Diana came at him like a storm, daggers dancing in arcs to that shredded the air with a whistle, and pressed her will against his in stark oppression. Despite having left the forest of Laur, her torture sessions had continued unaffected. They had worsened somewhat actually. Since Diana had lesser time to spend on him she made it that much more effective, and some. Boris dodged her thrust and slipped his hand at her joint, trying to hook her arm in a lock and throw her down. She disentangled craftily but Boris continued. His other hand went straight at her wrist and he tried to twist it back and away behind her, jerking her forward while he jerked her arm back. It all happened in one swift motion, just as he wanted. But instead of coming down, Diana spun in the air above Boris, rendering her twisted arm straight again and leaving his back free to assault. Boris knelt with a shudder, feeling serious killing intent on his back, and tried to evade the blow from behind. It came instead at his sides and flung him at the ground before he could block it. He rolled over to a stop, using his feet rather than his hands to brake. ¡°Playing dirty?¡± Boris complained while getting back in position. He found it difficult to use his will to attack while Diana flaunted hers and used it as feints. He would feel an attack coming from the front and it would instead come from below. That was ridiculous and underhanded. ¡°Dirty?¡± Diana scoffed. She started towards him again. ¡°Do I need to announce my attack and position for you to defend? That is not fairness but stupidity.¡± She vanished, shifting into diversion, and came at his blind spot. Boris guessed her blow and dodged narrowly as her dagger swiped where his neck had been. He marched in before Diana could reverse her swing and gripped her other arm that was about slice his abdomen clean, cautious to avoid the dagger. Metal still hurt him, weapons much more so. Even if he could bear the pain¡ªhe often tried with coins¡ªthe distraction could cost him dearly in a battle. Twisting aside, Boris guided Diana''s left away from him as it soared upwards. He clashed his will against Diana''s in opposition and thrust his shoulders under hers to throw her over while she was still advancing. As Boris spun to add his own momentum to Diana''s, she kicked his feet away and disrupted the throw. He tottered and twisted back around to face Diana, using her left arm as hostage. Diana surrendered her left readily and Boris slackened. Instantly, the dagger in her right curved up in a blinding glint of silver and drew a streak of blood from his escaping neck. Boris shuddered and stepped in, finding an opening. He aimed a thrust at her right shoulder, hoping to have her abandon that dagger. She dodged and kicked his knee hard, making him falter. ¡°You pay too much attention to the weapon,¡± Diana warned with an elbow to his left shoulder. Boris let go of her wrist in alarm and received a kick to his guts, spitting out full force and bending over. This was why he saved his meals for later. ¡°You are fighting me and not my dagger,¡± Diana finished with a sweeping kick to his waist that sent him toppling across the ground. Boris grabbed the mud as it grazed his hands and pushed away while his legs tried to regain balance. Better a bleeding hand from the fall than a broken arm from Diana. He could sense her coming again, her will billowing like a storm. He extorted the mana veins in his leg and they tore through his muscles, squeezing them for each ounce of strength he had. Boris sprung to his feet comically, like jack-in-the-box, and ran at her. He did not know why he was smiling. Just that he liked it. There was an emptiness to his mind he admired at times like these. He could not feel or think. The world became a slow, predictable blur of motion. Boris reined his will in and flung it at Diana, eager to unfaze her. She smiled disastrously and tore at him like a lion, then continued to pound him away. By the time it was over, the caravan was moving again and Boris was propped against the wagon''s floor, painful and breathless. Diana did not heal him anymore. He pushed himself up and started to scrub his wounds clean with cheap liquor. ¡°You have the strangest of habits I have ever seen,¡± Halkone remarked seeing him wince. ¡°That''s because you are still behind the times,¡± Boris told him while he wrapped the bandages in strips over both hands. ¡°There will come a day when you will remember my wisdom with respect.¡± Another guard snorted beside them loudly. ¡°You will too, Gabe,¡± Boris scowled at him. ¡°Big words from someone who cannot land a single blow on the elf,¡± Gabe said, and resumed his watch behind the wagon. Including Boris, five guards sat in the rear wagon, with two of them active at all times. Boris had earned his position with proper effort and a little help from Diana. He did not like it when the others treated him as a weakling. ¡°He does have a point,¡± Halkone agreed with Gabe. ¡°You bet on Diana again, didn''t you?¡± Boris asked skeptically while he searched the floor for one of the books he had borrowed from the merchants for a portion of his pay. ¡°How much did you earn of it?¡± ¡°That''s not even a bet anymore kid,¡± Halkone held the book up and stared him in the eyes. ¡°Now we only bet on how long before you lose and how many hits you can take.¡± ¡°Says the guy who lost to me,¡± Boris added. Gabe snorted again and Halkone frowned. ¡°It¡¯s not over,¡± Halkone grumbled. ¡°We are barely a week our way. There''s plenty of chances left.¡± Boris swiped the book away and started flipping the pages. ¡°Hey, are you listening to me?¡± the Scythian grouched but Boris filtered his voice to focus on the explanation on glyphs.
Quote:It is sometimes questioned why we need glyphs when all they are is a representation of spells¡­ Just like chanting, a glyph can help shape spells better, sharper and more accurately. It takes time but sometimes, it is the only way. There is a limit to how large or complex a spell a mage can cast just by a mental image, a limit to imagination. One may imagine a hundred different spells but one cannot imagine all of them at once. A glyph is the most rigid yet perfect means of invoking the most complex of spells successfully¡­ All straight lines are channels and all curves are modifiers. A singular ori determines the origin and thus the orientation¡­
He had read this book at least twice in hopes of learning something more, unsuccessfully. He hoped to ask Diana more when he got time. If he got time. Between juggling guard duty and Diana''s training, he felt busy. In some ways it was a solace. An idle mind was a devil''s workshop. There were worries he had rather not be worried about. A tap on his shoulder alerted Boris to another guard. Kale was a reserved fellow; he had not spoken at all since their journey. Boris nodded at him and plucked the telescope from his hands. ¡°I am taking the shift, Halkone, don''t be late on your turn,¡± he warned the scythian and moved on with a nod at Kale. ¡°Oh you needn''t worry,¡± Halkone spewed. ¡°We will reach the Water''s before dusk. No night duties tonight. Just booze and beds. How sweet the comfort dwells, at duty''s end and death.¡± ¡°You are sick,¡± Boris spat before he moved out on watch. He passed between Gabe and Wylf and climbed up the wagon''s sides to the roof, balancing himself softly against the wooden skeleton. Almost immediately, a couple of snowbills wandered down their passage along the sky. Boris proffered them a perch on his shoulders and they succumbed. ¡°There you go.¡± He scattered a few bits of his meal at the birds while he chewed on the rest. He kept a watch around through the telescope. The first part of their journey was supposed to be safe and now he understood why. The landscape was almost barren, without cover except for naked trees that dotted it sparsely. Winter had mellowed the wildlife and left the land desolate. And safe. They crossed a few other caravans and some horse riders in safety. A silent stretch gave way to fields, tilled and ploughed. Awaiting their turn to prosper. Small dwellings erupted now and then. Then a few hills emerged. The grass had persisted all along the route but now it sprouted shrubs and thickets. And among them, flowers presented themselves to the icy apathy of winter. He recognized those. ¡°Winters''ins.¡± Boris recognized. ¡°Correct,¡± came a voice behind him. ¡°That''s a fickle name for a flower that grows perennially but only gets noticed in winter.¡± ¡°I thought you didn''t want me dawdling when I was on duty,¡± Boris remarked with his back still at Diana. He did not know how she had come up behind him from her own wagon. He did not want to either. ¡°Are you questioning me?¡± Diana swiped the telescope from his hands swiftly. ¡°Not really,¡± Boris replied, peering in shock at his empty hands. ''How does she even do that!'' ¡°Good,¡± Diana answered. She lifted a snowbill from his shoulder and willed it away. ¡°Because it''s time you learned your lessons in observation and detection. You will need them soon.¡± ------------------------ It was a familiar dream. A large swathe of darkness raged and ravaged while he stood distraught. A harrowing pulse of his heart gave way to the bone chilling cold of his skin. Yet he wasn''t about to surrender. In his hands was a shield of gleaming blue and it rippled softly, like a force field, as it threw away the endless onslaught of the monster''s writhing limbs. His sword could barely harm the monster much. Still he persevered, slicing away with every fiber of his being. Dodging, parrying and attacking relentlessly. And when the monster shrieked at last, he thought he had won. How wrong he was. For it came at him like lightning¡ªa twisted arm of writhing black. He heard a scream of caution as a hard shove sent him aground at that last moment. And there, saved by a hair''s breadth, he looked in disbelief at the one who had shoved him and died instead. Boris was nowhere to be found but for a trail of gore that stood evidence to his demise. ¡°Ray. Ray, get up,¡± a voice roused Ray Edson out of his troubled sleep and back into reality. He jerked alert and shook his head severely while his hand went for his sword. ¡°What happened?¡± Ray asked Violet. ¡°What happened? We are nearly back. Do you want to greet the populace looking as you are right now?¡± she said, lifting a hand to pluck at his disheveled hair. Ray brushed her hand away and looked around the carriage. Furnished with plush cushions and curtains, their carriage was about as comfortable as it could possibly be, but it could not replace a bed. Both Sylvia and Claire were still peacefully asleep. It had been a drain on them to fight so often. He wished they hadn''t followed him so readily, despite their feelings. ¡°You should wake them up too.¡± Violet gestured while softening the creases of her clothing. Ray simply glanced out at the distant walls of Orin, as peaceful in winter as they had been in autumn. And for all he had witnessed, he found it difficult to believe. ¡°Say,¡± he started, remembering his skirmishes, ¡°can the Cult make it this far into the nation.¡± Over the past month he had fought the fanatical Cult twice. ¡°Unrestrained, they might,¡± Violet said. ¡°But you don''t expect us to sit and watch silently do you?¡± ¡°I sure do not,¡± he replied with a faint smile and eased back in his seat. ¡°Violet...?¡± ¡°Hm? Shouldn''t you wake them up by now?¡± ¡°About... about Boris.¡± ¡°Regretting your outburst already?¡± she said sarcastically. ¡°Both of you are idiots of first degree.¡± ¡°No. No... ¡± Ray replied pensively. ¡°I think¡­ well I don''t know how to put it but¡­ we are better off without him. So let''s not pull that issue again.¡± ¡°Are you for real?¡± Violet sounded annoyed and repulsed at the same time. Ray felt her eyes prick at him. ¡°Yes. I have decided,¡± he answered unhesitatingly, ¡°I have my ways and he has his.¡± ¡°It will be too late to regret it later.¡± Ray smiled again. It was a charming smile but not a very convincing one. ¡°I have never regretted my decisions. And I never will.¡± ------------------------ Still upon the wagon''s roof, Boris received a smack from Diana with a grunt. ¡°You are doing it wrong again,¡± she announced as the other guards laughed loudly below. Boris snarled and received a second smack. ¡°Wrong. How many times do I have to tell you not to let the mind wander?¡± Diana remarked. ¡°Remember again, what do you do when you fight me? Do you look around at people? Do you hear them? Do you even feel anything else?¡± ¡°I am trying to focus,¡± Boris gesticulated. ¡°You are not. You are fighting your emotions, stabbing your thoughts and stressing your mind. Do you do all this when facing death? No. You ignore it all. Let it be as it is. You do not let it matter. Do you understand?¡± Diana explained strictly. ¡°So it doesn''t matter?¡± Boris asked curiously. The snowbills pecked at his hair annoyingly. He drove them away but they kept returning obstinately. ¡°Correct. Do it again.¡± Boris calmed his breath and closed his eyes. He relaxed, ignoring everything around, even Diana. Would she kick him now? He received another smack and ignored his fear. Slowly, very slowly, he imitated the same calm he felt when he fought Diana. It was mute and eerie. ¡°There,¡± Diana remarked. ¡°You are getting a hold of it. Open your eyes now.¡± He did so and looked at the world again. It looked so much more... bland? ¡°Do you see it?¡± Diana asked. ¡°See what? It''s dull as heck.¡± ¡°No,¡± Diana smiled. ¡°It is how it always was. You changed. You stopped adding useless thoughts to everything you see. The sky is not dreamy anymore. It is simply blue. The ground is not dirty. It is brown. The trees are not running. They are still. Do you see?¡± ¡°How do you¡ª ¡°Remember this state of mind kid,¡± Diana cut short Boris''s question. ¡°It is the zeroth form of Svenda. The true formless form. You will need to practice this a lot. Talk less, listen more.¡± Boris nodded and continued. The calm grew over time becoming a vast swath of emptiness. Everything felt detached, trivial. He himself felt the same. ¡°Now, you should begin to feel it,¡± Diana added very softly beside him, ¡°something like a lake forming inside your mind. That is your will.¡± Boris tried to figure out a lake inside his mind. It was not there. ¡°There isn''t any?¡± he questioned in a whisper. ¡°That cannot be,¡± Diana told him. ¡°It is there, I know. Your will has eased itself into your mind. I cannot feel it anymore. So look inside, what is there that wasn''t before?¡± ''An ocean of silence,'' Boris realized. Full but empty. Endless. Dreadful. ¡°Did you feel it?¡± Diana asked. ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Boris hesitated. ¡°Good. Now you know your own will. Keep it calm and concealed. It is your greatest weapon. When you are like this, even animals will find you feeble and inconspicuous. It is good for stealth and surprise attacks. It will take a promising mage or scout to find you.¡± The snowbills around Boris now ignored him as if he were a tree. ¡°Now comes the difficult part,¡± Diana said while looking around through the telescope. ¡°If you had mana, you could meld it with your will and channel it. Since you do not, just try to sweep your will around little by little. Let it emerge like a film of water. Thin, faint and fluid.¡± Diana made a small sweeping motion with her hands. Boris breathed out and let his will flow, not repressing it but guiding it along. Since it was calm and easy to manipulate, it proved much simpler than before. ¡°Do you feel the people below?¡± ¡°Four of them,¡± Boris nodded in answer. ¡°Do you feel how they feel?¡± Diana enquired further. ¡°Mostly alert, a little anxious may be?¡± Boris reasoned. ¡°That is so,¡± Diana agreed and Boris felt her will now. Unlike his own, it was sharp and stilling. ¡°Yes,¡± Diana reminded him, ¡°that is my will. It terrifies most people if I let it.¡± ¡°I couldn''t agree more,¡± he answered placidly. ¡°We will move on,¡± Diana brushed him off. ¡°Observation requires using every available sense to inspect things. There should be no bias and no guessing.¡± She followed it with a lengthy explanation of details as she asked Boris to describe little things from weeds to pebbles. She would point out fallacies and let him correct them. When Diana felt it was enough for the day, she asked Boris one last thing. ¡°Use your will to find what is inside that wagon ahead.¡± Boris swept his will like a small wave while observing the wagon. Two impressions on the outside of its canvas delineated the piled up goods inside. They bounced softly when the wagon jerked. So it wasn''t wood or iron. When his will sneaked into the wagon, it quivered awkwardly. Something tugged at him and wouldn''t let go. Just as Boris realized who was in the wagon his concentration broke apart and his will turned into a mess of confused emotions. ¡°You failed,¡± Diana concluded. ¡°I forgot she is inside,¡± he grumbled, ¡°and still angry.¡± ¡°Did it feel so?¡± ¡°I don''t know,¡± Boris shrugged, ¡°It felt weird, like something was pulling on me. That''s like how her eyes always feel.¡± ¡°That''s your last lesson for today,¡± Diana nodded approvingly. ¡°When you try to touch someone''s will it reacts to your own. The trick is to be delicate and subtle. Most people only grow a little anxious. They will not realize someone is probing them. But those who do,¡± Diana pointed ahead. Elaine glared fiercely from the next wagon. Her eyes narrowed accusingly at Boris. Boris held both his hands up in surrender and smiled apologetically. Elaine frowned but said nothing. Diana continued unaffected, ¡°Let''s just say, they will counter. That woman is one of the few who instinctively know how to use their will and hers works like a charm that draws everything in. You should have seen how the people behave around her.¡± ¡°So you taught me another way to tick her off. Many thanks, I am already very good at that,¡± Boris shook his head sarcastically. Elaine had not talked to him a whole week. ¡°You are welcome,¡± Diana patted his head in condolence. ¡°If you can make her that riled up, consider it a talent.¡± ¡°Are you joking?¡± Boris asked with disbelief. He noticed Elaine recede back and sighed. ¡°If I was,¡± said Diana softly, ¡°you wouldn''t be asking.¡± She then retired to the same wagon as Elaine. Left to his own, Boris resumed his watch in silence. He kept his will concealed and the snowbills rarely wandered down his way anymore. The vegetation started to thicken as the caravan progressed and hills became prominent by their cover. Boris made out a settlement hugged by the hillside just before the denser forest ahead. The Water''s Fill, or simply the Water''s. This was their stop. A small river fanned around it. Its canals made a funnel that irrigated the fields and filled a reservoir in the center. Pockets of smoke blotted the evening sky with patches of grey and the faintest scent of food sent his stomach into a loud growl. He grimaced at this ever present hunger and heard a louder laugh below. ¡°Guess we reached our spot, eh?¡± Halkone said gleefully as he poked his head out. ¡°You win another bet?¡± Boris guessed. ¡°You have no idea,¡± the Scythian retorted and Boris climbed back into the wagon as it ascended the hillside towards the village. They relaxed and the caravan came to a small halt by the gates. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Thanks for reading ^^. Just to clarify, I deleted a part of this chap because it already exceeded 8k words (initial draft was about 15k). If I do add it here or in the next chap, I will inform you. Sorry for the really long delay but I had to rewrite this, literally. I have shrunk the heroes side to few paras but the king still gets a long ass scene in the beginning. Well, thank you for your patience! I am still working on the next few chaps. Oh right, here''s a map tentatively... Map link A- abandoned fortress near Tabin, B- where Boris and Diana fought the cult and C- Forest of Goodwill I messed up some directions in writing so I will correct them slowly but this map is how I have imagined it till now. Sadly, it is not final and not to scale. Also, I am not good with digital drawing so this is hand drawn. Still better than nothing, right. Note that the sea in he north is farther away and the cities are smaller than shown. Also, since the wind flow is south-east in summers but northwest in winters in general, the northern part receives heavier rainfall in early months while the southern part receives heavier rainfall near winter. The central plains have perennial water supply because they receive rivers both from north and south. Also, the Islet of Berl was once a part of the main landmass but separated due to "landfalls". PS: Almost forgot. The previous chapter has also undergone changes. In brief, Boris has not told Elaine about his sister and Elaine is sorta angrier than usual at the end. (Might want to re-read the last half. Skip that part about Boris working the fields though.) PS2: Oh shit, I marked Cumaria wrong. That southern nation is Sumaria not Cumaria. Cumaria is the one with all the features. I mean, how did I mess that up? PS3: Right, tivanenk, like your review. (Some very relevant points, others I will justify as the story goes on.) Thanks dude. You will get a surprise next chap. A tidbit- Wintersin is derived form Winter is in = Winter''s in. I have stopped capitalizing Will. Does it make it worse or better? Opinions needed... 15. Decisions II - A night at Waters Fill 15. Decisions II - A night at Water''s Fill The roadside inn at Water¡¯s Fill rumbled with bouts of gluttonous laughter and bantering that slipped from tongue to tongue under the drunken faces of its patrons. Liveliness banged against the floorboards and tables, spilling over the mugs of mead and ale, but never wandered into the silence outside the tavern. The air outside reeked of tension and unease. And some of it crept into the hearts of men and women, stifling their bravado. Try as they did, even the tipsy patrons could not hide it well. Not a single barmaid had suffered harassment today. The barkeep had fewer broken mugs. The drinks did not smell of spit and grime. The minstrels did not sing of lovelorn heroes and the mercenaries did not describe each other''s mothers with profound profanity. Nobody pissed from the stairway upon the beggars below. And nobody hung from the ceiling with broken bones. The world had come to a standstill. Thus, when the door creaked open, all eyes turned to face the visitors in silent accusation. The first to step in was a young, sloppy lad who felt weaker than his shadow. Some gruff men judged him with disapproval but he did not flinch any. ¡°Is this the place?¡± Boris asked Gabe tiredly. ¡°What do you think?¡± the other replied, ¡°Seems like a blast don¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± retorted Boris. His eyes wandered to the door sign swinging softly in the lamplight. ¡®Monsters and Scythians not allowed¡¯ it read. It looked like a tasteless joke. It was not. ¡°Well get in then.¡± Gabe shoved Boris inside and occupied an empty table. ¡°What are you bums looking at?¡± he grouched provocatively and the stares around receded. A host of other guards and travelers walked in after Gabe, except for Halkone who had left after helping stow away the goods. Due to his superior strength, Halkone had shouldered most of the heavier goods. The head merchant then drove him away with a swift warning. Boris had simply watched it happen. He was an outsider himself and Elaine glaring daggers into his back had not helped. A low pitched growl of his annoyed stomach brought Boris back to the present. He clenched it and took a seat across the amused Gabe while waiting for his food to arrive. Kale and Wylf were already seated and a barmaid came swinging their way with mugs full of ale or mead or whatever it was. She batted away Gabe''s frisky hand with a wink and he swore crudely, squeezing out some coins before she offered him the drinks. Boris shook his head and turned his thoughts away from the scene. He swept his will through the air discreetly, feeling a muddle of emotions inside the tavern. There was a wave of elation, fizzing in the air like carbonated beverages. A sharp tinge of annoyance came from Elaine at his back and flares of shameless admiration danced around her. Strangely though, Diana''s fierce presence was nowhere to be felt. Instead there was a swirl of anxiety that clouded the whole breadth of emotions inside. From within it, spikes of fear rose and fell every now and then, sending sparks of animosity exploding through the gloom. Before he could wonder over the spectacle, Boris was greeted by the smell of free meals coming his way. He threw all caution to the wind and dug into the stew like a starved predator. His companions drank even as they ate, rivalling his appetite with their thirst. Boris watched them grow drunk amidst the incessant shower of garbled words and curses now flying around. The ambience itself made him feel a little drunk. ¡°Evun so,¡± Gabe sputtered while he scraped a knife against his plate¡¯s edges, ¡°we''ve the wooorst luck ov the¡¯ all.¡± He swung his knife in circles, pointing at the barkeep accusingly. Then he looked at Boris¡¯s face and snarled. ¡°Dun¡¯ ged it d¡¯ you wookie? I¡¯m talking ¡®bout dem! Dem!¡± he swung his knife at the ceiling this time, making Boris wince. Kale caught Gabe¡¯s wildly swinging arm and dislodged the knife. ¡°Careful,¡± he warned, ¡°no need to make a scene.¡± ¡°Hah! Dun¡¯ ordah me avound!¡± Gabe withdrew his arm defiantly and took another chug of his umpteenth refill. He bent low and close to Boris who held his breath, mindful of the stench invading his nostrils. ¡°You¡¯z a coward,¡± Gabe whispered with a slovenly grin, ¡°afray¡¯d to dring becauz of Halbehs eh? Hehe. Dey gots you wetting pants dun¡¯ dey?¡± As Gabe shoved his mug at a passing barmaid for another refill, Boris located Elaine taking the stairs and decided it was time for him to hightail. Evening could only get worse in Gabe¡¯s company. With a silent gesture at Kale who nodded understandingly, Boris slipped away. His will thinned to obscurity, Boris advanced like a shadow between the eyes glued to Elaine¡¯s back. He reached the foot of stairs just when Elaine disappeared into the hallway above. There he turned back a little, facing the tipsy lookers in irritation. Boris hesitated, then surged his will until it burst out. It was a raw, uncontrolled rush of emotions and just letting it out felt exhilarating. Then he pulled his will back within as the results unfolded. Like a fuse blown over, the tavern went into disarray. Chairs bumped into the ground as people scrambled over their tables. Showers of ale and mead spewed into the air like broken fountains and disgruntled shouts began. Boris pulled his hood on and turned to the stairs with a smug smile. Few, if any, noticed his figure disappear. And only a sober Kale knew what he had done. Extending his will to be paper-thin again, Boris searched for Elaine through the narrow hallway. He felt her presence behind a door and stopped to knock. The door flung open instantly and a shocked Boris flailed as someone tugged his shoulders and jerked him aloft. The world spun before his eyes until the ground greeted him heavily. ¡°Ugh,¡± Boris groaned as his back smashed the floorboards and his eyes swerved from the walls to ceiling in disorientation. With a desperate maneuver, he propped upright and turned to face the perpetrator. Elaine looked down at him from her bed. ¡°That wasn¡¯t fair,¡± Boris complained, sullen at how easily he had been overpowered. ¡°Stop pricking at my mind Boris, or fairness will be the least of your worries,¡± Elaine warned coldly. She looked different now. Maybe because her hair had been done in. It made her seem older, more approachable. ¡°I was just practicing,¡± Boris replied as he picked himself off the floor and dusted off his clothes. Closing the door, he took a seat on the bed and Elaine shifted away to create a gap between them. Like an invisible barrier. ¡°Stop practicing such things. Don¡¯t you understand how dangerous it is to do this?¡± she chastised. ¡°Dangerous? Well,¡± Boris stammered in thought, ¡°it''s not like I am doing something evil. Besides, it¡¯s about the only thing I can do. And Diana does it too.¡± ¡°Diana is an elf, a very capable one. You¡­ if people find out what you are doing, you could be convicted of using mind-magic and executed.¡± ¡°Oh come on, don¡¯t label it like that. It¡¯s not like I can read minds or something. I wouldn¡¯t be stuck here otherwise.¡± Boris pursed his lips, looking from the gap to Elaine in thought. ¡°But of course you cannot,¡± Elaine stressed, ¡°There is no magic an inept can wield. But even the king did not understand that, did he?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care about what he thinks.¡± ¡°Maybe you should, because you are still inside his kingdom,¡± Elaine frowned. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot at the ground. Boris wanted to refute her but he could not find the words to do so. Instead, he swallowed and averted his eyes. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen Diana since we dismounted,¡± he asked awkwardly. ¡°She¡¯s gone,¡± Elaine answered after a pause. ¡°Another one of her excursions, I see. So she will meet up here or at Bizeon?¡± ¡°You seem to know her awfully well,¡± Elaine remarked with a smile. Boris failed to notice the twitch in her lips and felt relieved. ¡°I haven¡¯t spent months with her for nothing,¡± he boasted, ¡°It would be strange if I couldn¡¯t guess even this much.¡± ¡°So?¡± she asked again. ¡°So?¡± ¡°Why did you visit me if it wasn¡¯t to ask about Diana?¡± ¡°Wow, you make it sound like¡ª ¡°Excuse me,¡± interrupted a childlike voice from outside. ¡°I have brought your beddings. May I come in?¡± Elaine nodded and Boris pulled open the door. ¡°Come in,¡± he told the boy at the door. ¡°Who are you?¡± the boy questioned skeptically from behind the stack of quilts he held, ¡°This isn¡¯t your room.¡± ¡°I was visiting,¡± Boris answered while he unintentionally grabbed half of the load and looked at the boy¡¯s revealed face. It looked no more than twelve or thirteen. ¡°Wow, are you young?¡± he muttered in admiration. The boy frowned, snatched his load back and placed it on the bed by himself. ¡°You are not allowed to visit a lady¡¯s room unless you have permission,¡± he blurted, then looked at Elaine in query. ¡°Did you call for him?¡± he asked. ¡°No.¡± Elaine¡¯s swift response came as a shock for Boris who was then shoved out of the room while Elaine shrugged nonchalantly at his pleas. Much to her chagrin however, he returned soon, accompanied by the same boy who had kicked him out. ¡°Excuse me. I apologize for kicking him out of your room,¡± came an unwarranted apology. ¡°I told you not to mind it Pan,¡± Boris tapped the boy''s shoulder and sat down on the bed shamelessly, prompting Pan to take the chair opposite. ¡°Elaine, meet Pan,¡± he said with a shifty grin, ¡°he¡¯s the middle son of the innkeeper and in line to succeed in a few¡­ years. Pan, this is Elaine. She is¡ª ¡°Get out,¡± Elaine interrupted with her arms crossed and her brows furrowed. ¡°Excuse me then,¡± Pan apologized and got up, only to be stopped by Boris. ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry,¡± he told Pan. ¡°We¡¯ve already finished your chores and you¡¯re free, aren¡¯t you? And despite what she says,¡± Boris added convincingly, ¡°she doesn¡¯t bite. The only thing you should be wary of is- ouch! the way- ouch! she pulls your ears- argh! Stop it! I am sorry!¡± ¡°Boris,¡± Elaine continued with a firm grasp on his red ear, ¡°why exactly are you here?¡± ¡°I am bored, you are bored, he is bored, and so¡­ we should talk?¡± He struggled to wrench his ear free in vain. ¡°Boris.¡± ¡°Alright, alright, I don¡¯t want to stay with Gabe, the other guard, while he paints me with his vomit. Besides, I am curious but nobody seems willing to talk about it. So I thought you would.¡± ¡°The Halberds,¡± Elaine guessed. She let his ear go free and Boris pulled away with a grimace. Pan went pale at the words she uttered. ¡°See,¡± Boris pointed at the boy before him. ¡°You say it once and children go pale from head to toe. It¡¯s like they are ghosts or something.¡± ¡°I am not a child!¡± Pan protested weakly. ¡°Don¡¯t mind him,¡± Elaine told Pan, ¡°he is a kid himself.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a kid, I¡¯m an adolescent. There¡¯s a difference,¡± Boris asserted. ¡°There isn¡¯t in your case. The way you talk and act, not to say you have not even grown¡ª ¡°Alright stop! Can we just go back to the topic?¡± Boris protested before Elaine could complete her innocuous defamation. ¡°You started it,¡± Pan scoffed. ¡°Yeah, and I am ending it too, okay? Here, stuff your mouth,¡± Boris thrust something into Pan¡¯s hands before the sour Elaine. ¡°What is that?¡± she asked when Pan started chewing gleefully on his gift. ¡°It¡¯s called candy. It¡¯s like, just, well, try it yourself,¡± Boris offered Elaine one of his recent experiments. ¡®How the hell did I go from making pellets to making candy,¡¯ he rued. Lately, all his efforts had been churning out nonsense like this. Boris had some reservations about its taste and safety but initial testing on Halkone had gained positive reviews. ¡°I see, this is a bit peculiar. You made this?¡± Elaine asked curiously. ¡°With some help I did. I¡¯m still working on it actually,¡± he admitted dishonestly. ¡°Whoa, you didn¡¯t tell me that,¡± Pan exclaimed, ¡°my father would love to sell this!¡± ¡°Oh no, I don¡¯t really¡ª ¡°Come on, what¡¯s wrong with that. He¡¯ll give you some money if you share the recipe. In fact, if you promise not to sell it to others in town he would pay you a lot more. And this could bring us more clients. Wait here! I will go and ask dad right now!¡± Pan started bubbling with ideas and ran out the room with a bright smile. ¡°And there he goes. Cheeky brat,¡± Boris grumbled before closing the door after Pan. ¡°So you can bribe children now,¡± Elaine said offhandedly. ¡°You underestimate me Elaine,¡± Boris narrowed his eyes and smirked, ¡°I can coax them too.¡± He grabbed the pocketful of candies he had and placed them on the bed, between him and Elaine. She swiped a few and smirked, ¡°Don¡¯t think you earn my forgiveness with these.¡± ¡°I can make more, you know,¡± Boris replied, tossing one in the air and catching it with his mouth. Elaine tossed a second candy after him but Boris whisked it out of the air before she could do the same. In retaliation, she grabbed the rest of the lot on the bed and pocketed them. ¡°Hey wait! Those are the last ones. Leave some for Pan.¡± His cry fell on empty ears as Elaine shrugged and swallowed two candies in a go. ¡°You can make more, I know,¡± she said in a poor mimicry of Boris. ¡°Damn, I shouldn¡¯t have told you that. Still, it takes time and effort, and other things.¡± ¡°So that¡¯s what you¡¯ve been doing all these nights.¡± She nodded and popped another candy into her mouth. The speed at which she was devouring them made it clear that Boris would not be getting any back. With a sigh, Boris resigned to his fate and saved one last candy for Pan. Elaine finished the rest unapologetically and turned to Boris with a satisfied face. ¡°You really should sell them,¡± she advised. ¡°Then maybe you should pay for them,¡± he rebuffed, making a mental note about her sweet tooth. ¡°Sure. How much?¡± Elaine pulled out a small, embroidered purse out nowhere and clicked it open. ¡°I was joking.¡± ¡°I was not.¡± Elaine counted a few coins but Boris raised his hands in objection. ¡°Look. Just tell me about the Halberds and we¡¯ll be even,¡± he said. ¡°Are you sure?¡± Elaine¡¯s question put Boris in genuine doubt. He started thinking up other favors he could ask of Elaine and a shady smile bloomed on his face. ¡°No, stop there,¡± Elaine ordered before Boris could speak, ¡°The Halberds and Shields it is. And drop your creepy thoughts.¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t even said a word!¡± Boris exclaimed. ¡°Not my fault you¡¯re that easy to read.¡± Elaine pulled up a knapsack and sifted through it to produce a slightly torn book before Boris. A hint of displeasure crept into her voice as she continued, ¡°If you had been paying attention to what I taught at Orin, you wouldn¡¯t be asking me now. But I guess you only pay attention to your books, or Diana. Not that I care, but maybe you should.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not how it is,¡± Boris protested weakly. ¡°Sure,¡± Elaine made an ambiguous nod and thrust the book at his chest. A reluctant Boris grasped the book but continued his protest. ¡°I definitely pay attention to you,¡± he stressed, ¡°It¡¯s just different from how I, with Diana¡­ I can¡¯t describe it you know. In your case it just happens.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Elaine accepted dryly. Boris exhaled in defeat. ¡°...Forget it. If you don''t understand, there''s no use telling you about it.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°Can we move on already please? There''s a ton of things I want to ask and not a lot of time.¡± ¡°I gave you the book already,¡± Elaine answered. Though she had been enthusiastic in teaching verbally at the castle, getting her to do the same looked impossible now. Boris reluctantly picked up the book, flipped through the first few pages and sighed. Although the writing was different, the content was the same. He threw it back at Elaine who caught it bitterly. ¡°¡®Legions, orders and knighthoods in Cumaria,¡± Boris began, remembering what he once read, ¡°The kingdom of Cumaria boasts of a rich history of organizations formed under the King to promote peace and defend honor and faith among its citizens. Centuries of existence have seen these organizations grow from small, supporting groups into full fledged peacekeeping forces sworn under Oath to the King or the Archpriest. The most prominent of these include the Knighthood of Steelhearts, the Legion of Light and the Halberds and Shields of Orders whose origins are traced to the first King and oftentimes the gods themselves.¡¯ You want me to recite more?¡± ¡°You crammed it up?¡± Elaine grimaced. She looked at the thickness of the book and sighed before stuffing it back into her knapsack. ¡°You''re a total bookworm,¡± she reflected, ¡°no wonder Violet took to you. You''re the same breed of people.¡± ¡°I don''t need to cram it,¡± Boris refuted with a wave of his hand, ¡°It is about as complicated as a fairy tale. The Knights killed the invaders and saved the damsels. The Legion killed the demons and saved the nation. Halberds and Shields helped kill a dragon? Great. Is that what you want me to read?¡± Elaine did not agree. ¡°A little embellishment adds to the charm. No one would read plain facts but scholars.¡± Boris snorted and recounted another passage from memory, ¡°Thiracus, the dragonslayer, god of victory, patron of kings, united the bravest of souls under Halberds. He used them to slay the dragon Ber''al-grath, who had swallowed Gaia and threatened to drown it into the sea of darkness. For ten days they fought, and in the end the Halberds hacked the dragon from inside into four pieces, of which Thiracus ate the head and wore the the scales. Did this ever actually happen?¡± ¡°...It may have.¡± There was a pause to Elaine''s response that made Boris doubt if she herself believed it. He cast a skeptic glance and pressed on, ¡°He ate a dragon that could swallow the whole world?¡± ¡°And that is why Thiracus is called a god,¡± Elaine stated. ¡°And Halberds are called the Divine Hands?¡± Boris questioned again. Elaine sighed and shook her head defeatedly. ¡°Do not dig too much Boris,¡± she warned, ¡°The best way to deal with them is to keep away from them. Poke your nose and you''ll lose your head in return.¡± ¡°Well, you have a point there. Did you know about the guard monster at the gates?¡± ¡°The hellhound?¡± Elaine recalled vaguely, ¡°It''s not there anymore.¡± She had some inkling about what had passed but did not want to discuss it before Boris. ¡°Because the previous gatekeeper let it escape. The Halberds said it was a breed of evil and wanted to kill it.¡± The explanation threw Elaine into a storm of thought. ¡°Wait,¡± she exclaimed, ¡°how do you know? You haven''t even been here before!¡± ¡°The previous gatekeeper is dead,¡± Boris continued unaffected, ¡°and so is his son. Many people have fled. And all this because some Cult fanatics visited a week ago, raided the town keep and stole a few monsters from the kennels.¡± ¡°Well how do you know all this?! Even I didn''t know half of it.¡± ¡°Mind reading of course,¡± Boris cracked a silly smile unfitting of the situation. ¡°This isn''t a joke, Boris. They are above the law. They answer only to the Archpriest of their Order or the King. Do you get it? Nobody meddles in their business.¡± ¡°I am not going to meddle,¡± Boris assured Elaine. She stared him piercingly and found him fidgeting a little. ¡°Well,¡± Boris spurted frantically, ¡°I will try my best not to do anything like that anymore.¡± ¡°What are you going to after this?¡± Elaine cut his hesitation short. ¡°Me? Work a few recipes, take a little walk outside, then sleep, maybe?¡± ¡°No. You are going to sleep and you are going to sleep here.¡± ¡°Huh? Whoa really! No, I mean okay, sure.¡± Boris went through confusion, realization, shock, glee and acceptance so fast that his face barely had the sense to change expressions. A frowning, smiling, wide-eyed Boris made Elaine shudder a little. ¡°On the floor,¡± Elaine specified with her scepter. Boris nodded briskly. ¡°Sure. I will bring my luggage. Don''t lock the door after me, okay?¡± ¡°Why would I do that?¡± ¡°And don''t change your mind.¡± ¡°Like I said¡ª¡± Elaine huffed, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door. Boris marched up gleefully to open it. ¡°Oh, Pan, great timing. I was just about to go and meet you,¡± he said. ¡°Ugh, why are you grinning like that?¡± Pan looked at him with a difficult face. ¡°This is my normal face,¡± Boris asserted with a wider smile. ¡°Change it. Your normal face looks dreadful.¡± ¡°Do you want the recipe or not?¡± A smiling Boris answered. ¡°Sure I do,¡± Pan extended an arm and unclasped his hands, ¡°Here''s your five silvers. Five later if my father likes it. But only if you don''t sell it to other townspeople, like I said. How about it?¡± ¡°Five silvers?!¡± Boris exclaimed. ¡°Is it not enough?¡± Pan asked, slightly disheartened. ¡°It''s just a candy recipe! Why''d you pay five silvers? Are you stupid, you dumbass?¡± ¡°Who''re you calling stupid? Nobody''s seen anything like that before! You''re the dumbass if you think five silvers is enough, you moron,¡± Pan argued back with a scowl. Boris scowled harder. ¡°Stop being rude! I am saving you from being conned, you pipsqueak. See Elaine, this is why I said he was cheeky.¡± ¡°You know,¡± Elaine answered with a dreary smile, ¡°five silvers is a reasonable price. Or are you so rich you don''t need money?¡± ¡°Wh- is that so? Well then Pan,¡± Boris coughed, pretending to think, ¡°five silvers looks good to me. And I''m not thinking of selling it to anyone else in this town.¡± ¡°Then it''s a deal. Bring your recipe.¡± ¡°Oh right, there''s something I forgot to ask you earlier,¡± Boris answered while he passed the last candy he had saved to the boy. ¡°What?¡± Pan grabbed the candy with a swift movement. ¡°There''s this sign on your front door right?¡± His tone became softer as Boris watched Pan pop that last candy into his pocket. ¡°Monsters and scythians not allowed. Dad''s orders,¡± Pan recalled tiredly. ¡°Yeah, that one. Monsters I can understand, but Scythians? That feels a little weird.¡± ¡°Does it?¡± ¡°No no,¡± Boris shook his hands in denial, ¡°I''m not objecting. Just... somewhat curious. It''s alright if you don''t want to talk about it. I mean a kid shouldn''t know such things.¡± ¡°I know. What about it?¡± ¡°So like, elves are okay? Did Scythians wreck a the inn?¡± ¡°Let me ask you something in return,¡± Pan answered with a bitter smile, ¡°How would you feel if I stole her from you?¡± He pointed at Elaine and Boris almost jumped out of his shoes in surprise. He caught Pan''s arm before Elaine could raise a query and shoved him out the door. ¡°Ahaha. L-let''s go Pan, we don''t have time. Your father must be waiting.¡± ¡°Boris?¡± Elaine voiced sharply but Boris did not dare turn to face her. ¡°Oh, don''t mind him Elaine,¡± he improvised hastily, ¡°He''s confused. It''s his sleep time,¡± and dragged a disgruntled Pan outside, ¡°Move, move, let''s go.¡± It was only after they had gained some distance that Boris caught his breath and turned to Pan. ¡°Why did you say something like that, stupid?¡± he asked anxiously, ¡°And just when I''d gotten permission to sleep there.¡± ¡°Stop calling me stupid! Isn''t she your¡ª ¡°Of course not!¡± Boris rolled his eyes, ¡°Where were you looking?¡± ¡°What! You tricked me?¡± Pan frowned. Boris shook his head exasperatedly, ¡°I told you I knew her pretty well. Pretty well doesn''t mean¡ª how precocious are you anyway?¡± ¡°What do you expect? I practically live in the tavern.¡± ¡°Modesty and honesty... I guess not. You''re good at lying though. As if the gatekeeper could''ve died off himself.¡± ¡°Shhh...¡± Pan raised a finger to his lips, ¡°Don''t talk about that anymore. You don''t know who''s listening.¡± ¡°Alright. But don''t expect the truth from me if you''re lying yourself. Don''t you know the saying goes: a lie for a lie and a truth for a truth?¡± ¡°An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,¡± Pan corrected him. ¡°See,¡± Boris flicked his nose lightly, then rubbed his head, ¡°that''s the grown up version. You should avoid using it.¡± There was a smile and a frown on Pan''s face as they reached the common quarters assigned to guards. Boris walked in discreetly but found that most guards had yet to return here while others were snoring like a boar. He gathered his belongings from inside a trunk and returned to Pan with the recipe in his hands. ¡°Here you go,¡± he lent them to him with a smile, ¡°Goodnight brat. Oh, and if someone asks, I am sleeping in Elaine''s room, with due permission of course.¡± ¡°I will need to confirm that with the lady and your employers,¡± Pan answered and Boris clucked his tongue. ¡°I am joking,¡± Pan smirked, ¡°I heard her before I entered. Goodnight dumbass, expect the rest of your reward tomorrow.¡± He left before Boris could form a plan to pay him back tenfold for that joke. Defeated, Boris made his way back up to Elaine with mixed feelings. It had been a tiring day and an early sleep was just the thing he wanted. Yeah. It was only natural to take up her offer. Not like he had wrong intentions. Right? Not like she had any either. Right. Actually, was he even allowed to feel like this while his friends were risking their lives? No. He needed to find the way back. To find it soon. Well, he would try asking Elaine about that. They had the whole night after all. No, no, this wasn''t just an excuse to talk. This was a genuine issue. Right? Right. ---- When morning came, Boris found himself laid out horribly against a chair which wobbled to support his unsteady body. Aside from his discussion with Elaine, last night had been another assault of nightmares that had kept him squirming in his sleep. They seemed to worsen every night now but each time he woke up, his mind grew hazy as to what he had seen. Bits and pieces were all he remembered. Bits and pieces that made little sense. Though physically rested, Boris had a throbbing headache he did not want to confront. It would pass in an hour or two. It usually did. ¡°Had bad dreams again?¡± someone asked behind him. It took Boris a moment to figure out those words. He turned his head to face the inquirer while his hands gripped the table firmly, for fear of losing balance. ¡°''s nothing unusual,¡± he replied drowsily. ¡°It doesn''t look that way to me.¡± Elaine judged his drained face with some concern. She had barely extended her arm when Boris caught it with an awkward jerk. In a daze, he looked from his hand to Elaine and stumbled back to regain his balance with a heavy foot. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said with a shake of his head, ¡°it''ll get better soon.¡± ¡°You can sleep more if you want,¡± Elaine offered while pulling a chair back and placed her breakfast on the table. ¡°It''s early in the morning. The caravan will take time to depart.¡± ¡°Mornings are always early,¡± Boris grouched, stuffing his face full of whatever his plate held. Taste had little meaning for hunger. ¡°You can sleep more,¡± Elaine repeated for his addled mind. ¡°No.¡± Boris objected with a pale face and choked on his morsel. He frantically grabbed the jug of water and took slow gulps to calm down. ¡°Sorry,¡± he apologized again, ¡°force of habit. Need to wake up early.¡± He did not need any more nightmares. ¡°Looks like a troublesome habit,¡± Elaine commented. ¡°Last I heard the castle attendants had to dunk you in water in the mornings.¡± ¡°Right, right, there was that too, wasn''t there?¡± Boris chuckled, remembering his stay at Orin. ¡°The beds were nice and cozy there. Someone made me sleep on the floor last night.¡± ¡°Someone threw himself out of the castle for fun. And chose to sleep in a barn in winter. Must be a luxury for him to finally find a floor and beddings. Don''t you agree?¡± This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°Alright, I lose,¡± Boris grumbled, pausing before the next morsel of bread, ¡°I had a bad dream but I don''t remember what. Maybe it''s homesickness? Or maybe it''s the different world thing? Not much I can do. Things will sort themselves out.¡± Elaine stopped herself from stabbing her meal and pointed her knife at Boris instead. ¡°Or maybe they won''t,¡± she stressed. ¡°You will have to sort out your own life. As eager as you are to prove yourself, don''t forget that independence comes with responsibility and requires sacrifice. And I think you are too young for either.¡± ¡°Look who¡¯s talking,¡± Boris muttered dismissively, ¡°Diana¡¯s one thing but you don''t look much older.¡± ¡°You don''t know that.¡± Elaine¡¯s dry reply left a twitch upon Boris¡¯s ears. She could almost see his mind work out queasy details, his jaws grinding the fuel to feed his berserk imagination. But she suppressed her chuckle and waited his response. He swallowed his morsel as if trying to swallow his doubts and spoke up. ¡°So you are older than you look. As I thought.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know that either,¡± Elaine added with the same dryness. ¡°Same age?¡± Boris added. ¡°Who knows,¡± Elaine deferred. ¡°Yeah, hide your age, very woman-like.¡± ¡°I''m not the only one hiding things, am I?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°What do you mean what do I mean?¡± Boris sighed and took another gulp of water. ¡°Is this about that ludicrous talk we had last night?¡± he asked tiredly. He did not like to think. It worsened his headache. He did not like to keep quiet either. ¡°About Argyvael?¡± Elaine enquired deceptively. ¡°No,¡± Boris shook his head and frowned, ¡°not that creepy freak who stuck his feathery minions upon me.¡± Elaine had filled him in about the other Spirit Guardian, who had turned out nearly as crazy as Sikata. Who the heck clawed someone¡¯s forehead in gratitude? ¡°Then the heroes? Like I thought, Ray really does¡ª ¡°For the last time,¡± Boris interrupted Elaine disapprovingly, ¡°they are not his lovers! Well, not yet, I mean. Come on, how bad is your memory? I am barely sane and I still remember more than you?¡± ¡°Your insanity is a perpetual occurrence, and not an excuse. Oh wait,¡± Elaine pointed her knife at him yet again. Wasn¡¯t that considered rude? She never did this at the castle. ¡°Is this about the time I warned you that I''d slice your limbs off if you dared to pull any moves?¡± ¡°Very funny. Wait, is that what you were planning to do!¡± Boris asked. ¡°It was a joke.¡± ¡°....¡± ¡°I was only planning to take a finger or two.¡± Elaine shrugged. ¡°...Not falling for that again.¡± ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t either,¡± Elaine agreed and slapped the table with an awkward ting. As she withdrew her arm, Boris gawked at the vibrating knife embedded halfway into the table, right between his fingers. Then he turned to Elaine with a keen demeanor. ¡°Oh God,¡± he said, wide-eyed and sweating, ¡°I¡¯m so glad I restrained myself last night.¡± ¡°Me too,¡± she replied, plucking the knife out again, ¡°And it looks like a little nudge in the right direction is all it takes to wake you up.¡± ¡°If you people are done bickering then vacate the table, will you?¡± As a voice intruded upon them, Boris turned to see Pan, sore-faced and scrunched-eyed. Considering that the tavern had no other occupants right now, Boris found that gesture rude. ¡°Now why are you all prickly?¡± Boris asked, imitating Pan¡¯s sore-face, ¡°Didn''t get a good sleep, eh? Want me to sing you a lullaby?¡± Pan frowned. ¡°We¡¯re expecting guests.¡± ¡°I am your guest,¡± Boris thumped his own chest. ¡°Not your kind,¡± Pan whispered, ¡°We¡¯re expecting T.e.m.p.l.a.r.s. Why do you think all the other tables are empty?¡± His wary voice struck a chord of realization and Boris turned to his plate with a new zeal. No sooner had Boris finished his breakfast than the door banged open and a group of Halberds walked in. The man at their helm wore a velvet coat over embroidered robes. A curious hat flowed in three parts over his head and hid his eyes even in the bright daylight. It had a crest of four crisscrossed swords piercing a dragon-like figure that Boris recognized as the Thiracean emblem. ¡°Master Gretkin, please, welcome,¡± the innkeeper bowed to welcome the man. ¡°Glory be to Thiracus,¡± he added stiffly, ¡°and those who uphold His name.¡± Gretkin batted an eyelid in acknowledgement and looked at a barmaid. She squeaked and frantically pulled out a chair for him. When he was seated, his subordinates followed. Boris counted twenty and some armed men and women in disciplined rows of three that spread around Gretkin. As they parted to their seats, two odd persons emerged within the crowd. The first was a man in loose priest garbs, pleading with the Halberds incessantly. The second appeared to be a girl, unkempt and unsteady, dragged by the head of her hair so that her feet skid upon the creaking floorboards until a Halberd shoved her at the table ahead. The girl flailed and hit her back upon the table¡¯s edge before the priest caught her gingerly. Boris froze, looked between Elaine and Pan in shock, and voiced a quiet whisper, ¡°What is this? Who is she?¡± ¡°The gatekeeper¡¯s daughter,¡± a shivering Pan squeaked, ¡°the priest had been hiding her but seems they got to him. You should go. Now.¡± ¡°Why is she like this?¡± Boris whispered again. Pan drew a cross over his lips in answer and scurried off before Boris could ask anymore. ¡°Boris. Leave.¡± Elaine ordered. Boris grit his teeth and raised a brow. ¡°You¡¯ll only make it worse,¡± she cautioned. Beside her, Boris watched the priest get manhandled while struggling to keep the girl safe. He felt his headache worsen and clenched his fist. Elaine clamped his hand to the table. ¡°If you meddle, they will kill you and the girl. If you don''t, I might find her a way out.¡± ¡°Please, she is innocent!¡± the priest cried behind Elaine. ¡°She has nothing to do with the cult!¡± The Halberds cried foul and kicked him again. The barmaids scampered as the priest tumbled headfirst into a table and broke his nose. ¡°Do you see that, pagan wench!¡± A Halberd roared as he grabbed the gatekeeper¡¯s daughter by her forelock. ¡°An innocent believer is suffering because of your sins. To have tainted a man of cloth, your kind is wretched beyond redemption.¡± The girl herself offered no resistance at all, swaying like a doll hung by its hair. A bloodied priest caught the Halberd¡¯s hand in resistance and snatched the girl back. ¡°Thea isn''t a pagan. She comes to the temple to pray, she helps around the town, she makes offerings.¡± He panted through his bloodied lips and continued, ¡°This isn''t right. Thiracus protects the weak, He doesn''t torture them. Why are you doing this?¡± Boris loosened his hand and drooped, calming his will into itself. His narrowed eyes locked with Elaine''s and he whispered, ¡°Now¡¯s your time. Do something or I will.¡± Elaine sighed, let go of his arm, and stood up to face the Halberds. A dozen Halberds turned her way. Gretkin did not. He seized the priest by the collar and smashed him against the wall. ¡°Did you just question my faith, you lowly preacher?! Did you cast suspicion on a Halberd captain?¡± The man drew a dagger from his robe and put it against the priest¡¯s throat. ¡°Say it again!¡± he threatened. ¡°You are wrong. She is innocent,¡± the pallid priest answered, ¡°you cannot kill innocents.¡± The dagger leapt into the air, eager to draw blood. Elaine darted into the horde of Halberds. And Boris stormed his will out. A shock rippled through the air in fury, creating confusion. In that moment of delay, Elaine¡¯s scepter clanged against Gretkin¡¯s dagger and slammed it into the wall instead. Gretkin tossed the priest away and spun around with his sword drawn to face Elaine. There was no hesitation as his sword stopped a hair¡¯s breadth from Elaine¡¯s chest while his soldiers corralled her. ¡°You have guts, woman,¡± Gretkin commended with a smile, ¡°but would you like them spilled on the floor?¡± Elaine looked at him and the other Halberds now drawn to her, withdrew her scepter, and smiled customarily. ¡°Pardon me, captain Gretkin, I did not mean to provoke your honor or defame your faith. I was merely acting out of goodwill.¡± ¡°And so am I,¡± Gretkin answered, placing his sword against her neck. ¡°My goodwill sends people to Thiracus.¡± The Halberds drew their own weapons but failed to notice Boris creeping through their ranks. Boris himself stepped around like a cat, his will concealed and his eyes glued to the girl. His brain stormed through ideas to get her out without inviting trouble. Elaine shifted her glance between Gretkin and his blade. ¡°Your displeasure is justified,¡± she replied with the same plastic smile, ¡°but an inn isn''t a deserving place for one of the Divine Hand to display his mettle. Perhaps we should talk before we come to act.¡± Gretkin looked from her face to her empty hands and clamped one of them against the walls to lean in against her neck. ¡°Oh you don''t know about that,¡± he threatened in a whisper, ¡°you might change your mind after I act upon you.¡± Elaine¡¯s brow twitched and Boris felt a chill while he negotiated the floorboards for a fault he could exploit. Fortunately, the Halberds were too engrossed with Elaine to give an ear to the creaking wood. ¡°I don''t think you should do that,¡± Elaine preached in a low voice, ¡°it would reflect poorly upon your soul.¡± Her lips still held a curve but her eyes were frosty with disgust. ¡°Did you hear her, men,¡± Gretkin called out behind him, ¡°this harlot tried to question a Halberd¡¯s soul. Maybe we should teach her all about it.¡± The Halberds jeered and Elaine¡¯s brow twitched again. This time she let out a faint killing intent. Meanwhile Boris desperately lowered a wooden plank to create some space. It was not enough to hide the girl yet. ¡°What do you say?¡± Gretkin asked Elaine again. ¡°Would you like to know about a Divine¡¯s soul or would you rather taste his blade?¡± He pressed Elaine¡¯s left arm harder against the wall. ¡°I don''t think you understood me,¡± Elaine replied calmly. ¡°Oh I understood you plenty,¡± Gretkin answered and traced his blade at her cheek until it drew a fine red line. His lips parted into a threatening display of hungry teeth. ¡°And I¡¯ll give you plenty of time to understand me.¡± Elaine ran a cursory glance around to notice Boris sneakily lowering the girl under the floor. She exhaled and swiftly disengaged her left arm from Gretkin¡¯s grip, pushing him back softly to grasp her scepter. A surprised Gretkin found himself staring at the hard-faced Elaine as she brandished her weapon again. ¡°Calm down, captain,¡± she repeated, ¡°I will apologize again, but there¡¯s no need to come to arms.¡± Vexed and humiliated, Gretkin scowled back. ¡°You crafty little bitch! We will see how long your words last. Men!¡± The Halberds took a stance at Gretkin¡¯s command and Elaine herself did the same. A faint light started to glow upon her scepter¡¯s edge, forming a blade. ¡°She¡¯s a witch!¡± someone cried. ¡°Kill her before she casts!¡± another howled. ¡°Stop,¡± Elaine warned. ¡°Have none of you seen this before?¡± ¡°The scepter of light,¡± Gretkin realized. His eyes ran a scrutiny of Elaine¡¯s face. ¡°I thought you were just a wench but why, you are the Legion¡¯s bitch.¡± ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough,¡± Elaine snapped, ¡°I dare you to say that again, and I will part that tongue from your mouth before it can utter the filth you spewed.¡± Boris was beneath the floorboards wondering where to run with the girl when he felt a gush of killing intent that drove him cold in fear. He peeked between the gaps just as Gretkin charged at Elaine. ¡°Shut up you bi¡ª##)&@&?%#^¡± Gretkin¡¯s words turned to gibberish as his tongue streaked across the floor in a spurt of blood amidst a dozen screams and howls. Gretkin flailed in shock while Elaine tugged at his robe and smashed him against the wall without a moment¡¯s delay. ¡°I warned you,¡± she told him, turning to face the other Halberds. ¡°What did you do to Captain you bi-gh!¡± A blunt blow to the face assaulted the first follower. ¡°I said,¡± Elaine bellowed, ¡°don''t call me a bitch!¡± She thrust the scepter¡¯s blunt end into the man¡¯s abdomen with a force so absurd that he flew across the room and hit the other wall. ¡°You will regret this you w-*#¡± The next woman flew higher, hit the ceiling with a bang and crashed into a supporting beam with a crunch of broken bones. The Halberds gaped in shock while Elaine placed her scepter¡¯s blade upon Gretkin¡¯s neck. ¡°Don''t you cretins move, or this pig will have his head lying in a pool of his filthy blood.¡± The surroundings froze at her words while Gretkin bawled and struggled anew. Elaine snarled, grabbed his hair and smashed his head against the wall with a terrifying crunch. The captain slumped heavily against the ground, leaving a trail of bloody red on the wall. ¡°There, that''s quieter,¡± Elaine said, placing a foot upon his shoulder and pointing the scepter at others. ¡°Now stay sharp and listen dung heads. I am Elaine Sithe, the Maiden of Light, of the Legion of Light. I serve directly under His Majesty Durham Dwim Salvem, King of Cumaria. This scepter is proof.¡± She held the glowing scepter before the others in show before proceeding. ¡°My next report to His Majesty will have an elaborate mention of captain Gretkin, of the Divine Hand of Thiracus, abusing his power to assault me, among three other innocent people at Water¡¯s Fill, with the deliberate aim to create unrest and possibly, incite rebellion and revolt. This man will get his just desserts no doubt. As for the rest of you, if you choose to withdraw, I will spare your sorry souls. If not, I will add the news of your unfortunate demise to my report.¡± The next Halberd who dared to oppose had his shoulder sliced through before he could take a step and fell down screaming in shock. A couple of others fainted. And with that, the Halberds and their injured comrades beat a swift retreat, leaving their captain bleeding on the floor. ¡°What a bunch of cowards,¡± Boris rebuked while sneaking out from the floor. Then he found the sliced off tongue lying on the floor and looked at Elaine. ¡°You want to say something?¡± she asked icily. ¡°No. Nothing. Remind me not to piss you off, like ever again.¡± ¡°Well you haven''t yet.¡± Boris exhaled and pointed at the captain¡¯s remains. ¡°Should I help you clean up the mess?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Elaine answered, ¡°Whose fault do you think this is?¡± ¡°I think we should share the responsibility. I saved the innocents and you ki- I mean, defeated the villain.¡± ¡°You did not save anyone and I did not defeat any villain. Now come here and help me patch up this man lest he dies.¡± Boris looked at her in confusion. ¡°Me? You should just heal him.¡± Elaine shook her head in denial. ¡°I would if I could,¡± she said and turned to face the frozen innkeeper. ¡°Do any of you know healing? Don''t worry, I will pay for the damages and everything else.¡± The innkeeper came to life with a jerk and approached cautiously. ¡°Don''t worry about payment,¡± he spoke with hesitation and beckoned a barmaid. ¡°Gina, bolt the doors and tell any visitors the tavern¡¯s closed for now. Also, send two others to keep the guests inside. Have the rest clean up the stains. And Pan, go to your room, this isn''t the sort of thing for you to gawk at.¡± He dragged the unconscious priest and left him to one of the barmaids. Then he flipped Gretkin over. The captain, although breathing, looked far worse than a dead man. They propped him against a chair and the innkeeper tried to stop the bleeding with a couple of small spells. It took a dozen tries to work well enough. Elaine tied up the captain to the chair while Boris cleaned up his wounds. In time, they had a living, breathing Halberd captain in captivity. ¡°Forgive us,¡± the innkeeper apologized after he was done. ¡°We did not know you were the maiden of light.¡± He ordered a barmaid to bring some refreshments for Elaine while pulling a chair across for her. ¡°There is no need for all this,¡± Elaine refused. ¡°Oh no, we have caused you much trouble. This is the least I must do in apology.¡± Boris watched the innkeeper¡¯s sudden courtesy with increasing amusement. He felt a hint of unease on Elaine¡¯s face and stepped between her and the innkeeper. ¡°Don¡¯t you know my lady does not drink cheap liquor,¡± he preached with a confident voice. ¡°Bring in your best lemonades with a side of fried potatoes and spiced chicken. Don¡¯t forget to- ow!¡± Elaine smacked Boris and held a stopping hand towards the confused innkeeper. He misunderstood and bowed, ¡°I am afraid I had no idea of your tastes. If you can let me know what those foods are then I will immediately¡ª ¡°I said,¡± Elaine rubbed her temples with impatience, but kept her voice mellow. She did not want to frighten the man. ¡°I do not need such favors. I am not going to create a scene just because you didn¡¯t realize who I was till now. Don¡¯t put me on the same level as them.¡± ¡°What?¡± Boris remarked, dissatisfied. ¡°How can you deny his good will? How can deny you free food?¡± ¡°Did you not just eat two grown men¡¯s worth?¡± Elaine asked in annoyance. Boris shrugged in reply. ¡°I am a considerate gentleman, Elaine,¡± he answered smoothly, ¡°I can share in your worries and your meals equally well.¡± Elaine¡¯s brow twitched. ¡°I am not sharing my worries or my meals. Not even if you beg.¡± ¡°Well look at that!¡± Boris feigned disappointment and surprise. ¡°Cold and blunt, not to mention selfish and inconsiderate. Is that how the maiden of light behaves?¡± ¡°Now you are close to pissing me off,¡± Elaine uttered with a scary smile. She wondered how he could form so many expressions in a short spell of time. He was more suited to be clown, or a swindler. She held her chuckle and showed her displeasure. ¡°Innkeeper,¡± Boris gulped and faced Pan¡¯s father, ¡°we will excuse your indisposition. Honored lady is in no mood to indulge in profligate consumption of sumptuous delicacies or to spare that benevolent offering for impecunious gentlemen.¡± ¡°Er, what?¡± the confused man asked. Boris gestured at him to go away. ¡°I said it¡¯s useless to offer her a meal. She does not want to eat nor will she let me have her share.¡± The innkeeper pulled a face and looked at Elaine. ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked, ¡°You are the kingdom¡¯s pride, my lady. We may not have seen you before but we have heard of your tales. Had I known you were here, I would never have allowed you residence in such a paltry room.¡± ¡°They are writing stories about you now?¡± Boris raised his brows and lowered his jaw, ¡°I knew I missed some fairy tales!¡± ¡°Will you shut up?¡± Elaine almost roared. ¡°And you,¡± she turned to the innkeeper, lowering her voice, ¡°don¡¯t bother please. Do you want a carnival of admirers obstructing my duties?¡± ¡°No, that would be disrespectful,¡± the innkeeper replied. Elaine nodded politely in agreement. ¡°Then keep quiet about this incident,¡± she said with a soft smile, ¡°It will save both our selves a lot of trouble.¡± ¡°If you say so. When you visit Water¡¯s Fill again, please come to stay. We will not charge you. You have done us a favor today, not many can stop the heavy hand of Halberds.¡± ¡°Alright, I get it,¡± Elaine relented to the innkeeper¡¯s stubbornness. ¡°Don¡¯t get your hopes too high though. I have only dissuaded the Halberds for a while. Even I don¡¯t want to meddle with a general of theirs.¡± ¡°I understand. I pray they leave us as soon as possible. The town was so much better a week ago.¡± ¡°You are going to get busy are you not? Boris,¡± Elaine pointed at the floorboards where Boris had hidden Thea, ¡°bring the girl back up here. We will take the captain to prison now.¡± ¡°¡­.¡± Boris hesitated. He sneaked back down and brought the expressionless girl back up. She looked to be the same age as him but didn¡¯t speak a single word. Was it wise to leave her here? ¡°Boris?¡± ¡°Yeah, I mean, is that¡ª Someone interrupted Boris and walked in towards Elaine. Boris watched the priest hold a cloth to his face as he extended an arm in greeting. ¡°So you¡¯re the maiden of light, eh? Nice to meet you, I am Estin, the local priest.¡± ¡°Estin, mind your tongue,¡± the innkeeper warned but the priest continued to speak, not minding that Elaine had refused his handshake. ¡°I have heard a lot about you. How you¡¯ve saved soldiers at the frontier, how you¡¯ve slayed so many demons and how you¡¯ve kept our lands from invasion. Yours is a big heart, isn¡¯t it? Can you do me one insignificant favor? Please?¡± ¡°Estin!¡± the innkeeper threw a spoon but the priest dodged. It looked more out of practice than instinct. Elaine replied to Estin¡¯s request with a formal denial. ¡°I am afraid I cannot right now. I understand you¡¯re desperate, you should consult the guild.¡± Estin stepped in to grab Elaine¡¯s arm but she pushed him a short distance away. ¡°There are better ways to ask for favors, priest,¡± she warned. The priest made a bitter smile. ¡°Do you hate a man of the Order?¡± he asked, holding his clothes out in show. ¡°I know the Legion holds us in contempt. Puppets following an obsolete creed. Babbling nonsense all day long.¡± ¡°Sorry but I need to go now. Boris, leave the girl to him.¡± Elaine dismissed him with a simple wave of her hand. ¡°Don¡¯t go!¡± Estin cried, ¡°For God¡¯s sake, just listen to me once! I have been begging people day and night for help! Just once, can¡¯t you help a poor guy for once?¡± He seemed desperate now, sweating and heaving a little. Boris stepped in before Elaine could deny the priest again and stared at him. ¡°You should stop bothering with persuasion and just lay it out, you know,¡± Boris advised sincerely and pointed towards Elaine. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t be dithering if she did not at least want to listen.¡± ¡°Is- is that so?¡± the priest brightened. ¡°Yeah, I knew it. I knew you were a kind one. I have been knocking the guilds for days but they won¡¯t agree to it. This- this girl is innocent. They killed her parents, her brother¡­ They will kill her. Please, I don¡¯t want her to die. Anywhere, just take her out of here. I will pay you, I will beg, I will even¡ª Boris interrupted once again, not giving a chance for Elaine to think. ¡°Our caravan is going to Bizeon,¡± he revealed to Elaine¡¯s growing chagrin. ¡°We might run into Halberds along the way. Are you okay with that?¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ great,¡± Estin declared after some deliberation. ¡°Nobody knows of her outside of this town. She isn¡¯t anything important, or dangerous. They¡¯re just after her for¡­ fun. If she leaves, they will forget, but if she stays they will come for her.¡± ¡°And where do we leave her? She maybe of age but can she even live by herself?¡± Boris asked. His voice had turned probing, harsh even. He did not seem the same person who was joking moments ago. But the priest did not dislike his voice. ¡°Her uncle lives in Bizeon,¡± Estin proposed with relief. ¡°He is a good man. I¡¯ve written letters to him¡­ I¡¯ll write one for you.¡± ¡°Boris!¡± Elaine tried to get a word in and Boris turned to her and shrugged casually. ¡°What?¡± he said, ¡°We are going to Bizeon anyway. One more doesn¡¯t matter. If he doesn¡¯t have enough to pay for that, I¡¯ll pay instead. I¡¯ve got ten silvers to waste anyway.¡± ¡°Do you understand what you¡¯re saying? What did I tell you about responsibility and sacrifice?¡± ¡°You also told me,¡± Boris imitated her, ¡°¡®Don¡¯t meddle with them¡¯. Oh wait, look what you did moments ago!¡± Boris smiled and dodged an angry wave of Elaine¡¯s hand. He caught another wave of her hand and started to justify himself, ¡°I know Bizeon is like a holy city but all the more reason they wouldn¡¯t bother her there. Besides,¡± he pointed at Thea who was hiding behind Elaine, ¡°she likes you, see?¡± ¡°I swear, someday I will just hngfrgrh you!¡± Elaine answered with her teeth grit and her hands strangling an imaginary Boris. ¡°Then I will just fllfsh you.¡± Boris rubbed his hands together and smirked. ¡°So, you will take her?¡± Estin asked, uncertain. ¡°Yes,¡± Elaine relented again. It was better than letting Boris take responsibility for this. ¡°Now can I go and put this man in prison before he puts you all to death?¡± she asked. ¡°Thank you. I am really obliged,¡± Estin shook her hand repeatedly. ¡°I will give her the money and important necessities. I will get her prepared before your caravan leaves. She is a very kind girl. You will have no troubles, I promise.¡± ¡°Then that¡¯s that,¡± Elaine concluded, dragging the commander along as she left for the town prison. Boris followed her obediently after leaving a word with the innkeeper. As he marched out and smelled the fresh morning air, Boris believed his day was off to a good start. He had helped prevent an act of violence and lent a helping hand, though most of the credit went to Elaine. He had also earned ten silvers. Perhaps, his luck was starting to improve. Little by little, he was improving against his odds. He had even understood a bit more about the glyphs and planned some new recipes. Would he make a fortune next? Save a princess maybe? Or tame a dragon? But Boris should have known better than to tempt Lady Luck. She did not take kindly to temptations. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ Heya people! I''d be delighted if any of you remember me. No? Never mind. :_: Well, this chapter is one of those random updates I promised. 10 months late, you ask? Look again. The previous chapter is brand new (posted in Nov ''15) and the previous to previous chapter has changed considerably. (Yeah, you don''t remember it. orz) So basically if you have come straight here, start reading from chap. 13. Need a summary? I will post in chapter 13. This part was supposed to be 1-2 chapters but it has become 4. (chap. 14-17) I will post one each day for now.. (@piens15, I hope that fulfills my promise of multiple release. What? You forgot the promise? orz) My excuses for delay? RL, having to rewrite this part about 6-7 times (honest), writer''s block? Thanks for reading. orz? That''s it. Any questions? Well, I will mention here that I submitted some thing to the Valentines contest. If you are interested- Story: The Arcane History of Val and Tina http://royalroadl.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=53720 Poem: My Love''s Repose http://royalroadl.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=53722 Pic: InFocus http://royalroadl.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=54030 PS: @tivanenk, I know I promised a treat but you will have to wait two chapters. Sorry. PS2: @VesperOz. Check out that poem. I mean, seriously, it is good. Makes up for the lack of verses in this chapter. PS3: Leave some opinions, people!! (positive or negative, does not matter) It helps me think as I write on. That makes the next chapters better! PS4: I am just putting it here in case some of you are curious but the "Scythians not allowed" is because the innkeeper''s wife ran away with one. Ugh, talk about tragedy. 16. Decisions III - A clash of schemes New chapter is up. Enjoy. Leave comments/opinions behind. (Some ratings too, maybe?) __________________________________________________________________________________ 14. Decisions III - A clash of schemes[/u] Upon this night so promising, Grace, I hear the winter sing. And when the winter spells a gale, they say the snow has come to quell¡ª Sweet dreams upon their silent wails, sweet rest upon all fears held. Say, what tidings does it bring? Oh grace, I hear the winter sing, Upon this night so promising~ -Winter''s Lullaby Halkone goaded the horses to a beat faster as the road evened out, hastening the clatter of hoofs on the stony pathway. Boris sat idly beside him. They had both taken the role of drivers for the rear wagon and they both disliked it¡ªBoris for the fact that he could barely drive and Halkone for the reason that he had been left alone with a novice. The reassignment of guards left Boris and Halkone alone in the rear. The only respite for Boris came from the fact that Elaine and Thea sat behind him, within the wagon. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you again, lad,¡± Halkone muttered, ¡°Don¡¯t draw unwanted attention. Needlewoods is different, dangerous. Ours maybe the shortest way to Bizeon without crossing over the hills but it¡¯s infested with bandits and monsters the year round.¡± Boris pulled a sour face. ¡°I heard you the first time Halkone. You¡¯re being redundant.¡± ¡°Redone¡ªwhat?¡± ¡°Forget it.¡± ¡°Yeah and you forget about snooping around, alright? No use keeping watch here, ranging spells work far better than eyes inside the wilderness.¡± ¡°Are you using one?¡± Boris asked. Diana had often used the spell when he was in Laur but Boris could neither use nor be discovered by that spell. Halkone frowned. ¡°How would I be using one? I am a Scythian, these things are up the alley of you elves and humans.¡± ¡°So none of us is using it? Then what¡¯s the purpose of being here?¡± ¡°To guard the rear,¡± came a tepid reply. ¡°Doesn''t that put them in danger?¡± Boris motioned his head towards Elaine and Thea. ¡°It does,¡± Halkone agreed as he stroked the reins, ¡°And that¡¯s their problem.¡± ¡°Elaine, I think you and Thea should have taken a safer wagon,¡± Boris declared, bending his head into the canvas. ¡°This is safe enough.¡± Elaine rejected his offer without a thought. ¡°You are wrong there, girly,¡± Halkone lectured, ¡°This is among the least safe ones. Front and rear are the first to fall, the middle is most secure.¡± ¡°Which is safe enough,¡± Elaine asserted. ¡°Oh, alright. What do I care?¡± Halkone stared at Boris in disapproval. ¡°I¡¯m not responsible for anything that happens after this,¡± he grumbled. ¡°You heard him Elaine. I really think you should¡ª Boris had barely begun when the wagon jerked to a sudden stop. He balanced himself back into the seat and swore at Halkone in one of his crude dialects, ¡°Rotten jergils, what are you doing!¡± Halkone grabbed his head and turned it ahead. ¡°The roads blocked!¡± The entire caravan came to a stop before the manned barricade ahead. As some guards and a merchant disembarked to approach the armed men ahead, Boris noticed the emblem that shone upon their flags and gulped. Four swords through a dragon. ¡°Halberds again¡­. This doesn¡¯t look good,¡± Boris surmised. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Elaine replied softly from behind. ¡°They aren¡¯t looking for us.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Elaine was right. The roadblock was not meant to catch any culprits. It was meant to deter passage. A sullen merchant soon explained that due to Cultist threat, the main route had been blocked indefinitely. The detours were still available though. ¡°So are we stopping?¡± Halkone asked. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. There¡¯s a safer route up northwest. Do you know it?¡± the merchant asked. ¡°That¡¯s not safe,¡± Halkone objected. ¡°And it takes a day more at least, a day inside the Needlewoods.¡± ¡°Not anymore,¡± the merchant disagreed and held up a map. ¡°You see this,¡± he stroked a route among the hills, ¡°this is our shortcut. It will take the same time as the original journey. For all we know, we will be outside the Needlewoods before the night falls.¡± ¡°You¡¯re pulling my beard, right? There¡¯s no way something like that exists. It¡¯s dangerous at the least,¡± Halkone said. The merchant refuted his claim with a heavy hand. ¡°I have three dozen guards here, Scythian. Enough to take anything by the horns. And I have goods that better not be delayed. Now either you take the reins or you hand them over to the next one and lose your pay.¡± ¡°Who gave you that map?¡± Halkone asked bitterly. ¡°That¡¯s none of your business,¡± the merchant replied. As if conscious of it, he gripped the amulet of Thiracus tightly and hid it away inside his robes. Boris noticed the glint of gold as it disappeared but did not mention it. ¡°You damned penny pinchers,¡± Halkone cursed. ¡°I¡¯ll take the reins but we will need a guide. The visibility is bad in the hills and I hate getting stranded.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m prepared for that,¡± the merchant answered and returned. A moment later another driver joined Halkone and Boris retreated into the wagon. The caravan turned northwest into a wilder path that curved around the hills and climbed up a few. This gave Boris a wider view of the forest and he drifted to the edge, taking in the sights. A maze of trees unfolded before him. Surprisingly, the Needlewoods had both evergreen and deciduous trees. Most looked like conifers but still held patches of green upon their supple branches. What did stand however, were trees so tall they seemed to be raising pillars into the sky. Their naked grey bark stood exposed in the winter upon them and ended far above in tapering green tips. Boris did not have to ask to know what these trees were called. Though he would have preferred to name them the ¡®sky-piercing-lance¡¯ or the ¡®heavens-need-acupuncture-too¡¯. Sadly, the people here did not have a good sense for names. Boris shelved that thought and started observing the surroundings again. There were animals here, Boris could tell, though most stayed hidden within the thickets. ¡°You¡¯re doing it again,¡± Elaine remarked and Boris discovered he had been unconsciously using his will probe around. ¡°Ah,¡± he scratched his head, ¡°I didn¡¯t realize it. It helps me feel around for others. Why don¡¯t you try it too?¡± ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± Halkone interposed, bending back a little. ¡°I¡¯m not interested,¡± Elaine told Boris. ¡°As you wish¡­¡± Boris replied, ¡°If it is not bothering you too much, can I keep at it for a while?¡± Elaine sighed in defeat. ¡°¡­Keep it mild alright? And don¡¯t even try to probe into me. I will throw you out if you do.¡± ¡°As you wish,¡± Boris answered, turning to face the forest again. ¡°And don¡¯t provoke anything outside either. It will come running for your blood before you know it,¡± Elaine cautioned with a gesture. ¡°As you wish,¡± Boris repeated. ¡°And stop being sarcastic.¡± ¡°As you¡ª so difficult to please, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Is she your mother?¡± Halkone snorted. ¡°¡°Heavens no!¡±¡± The two jerked abruptly in reply. ¡°Sister?¡± Halkone enquired, amused. ¡°Not at all,¡± Boris shook his head and looked at Elaine. ¡°She is¡ª what are you to me?¡± ¡°How am I supposed to know?¡± Elaine responded crossly. ¡°Right,¡± Boris agreed, ¡°Let¡¯s just say she¡¯s sort of a nosy guardian.¡± ¡°At least she is pretty,¡± Halkone offered with a wink. ¡°I know, right? That¡¯s half the reason I put up with her.¡± The strong nod from Boris sent half a cramp up Elaine¡¯s face. ¡°Oh really!¡± she narrowed her eyes in scorn, ¡°And what is the other half?¡± A puerile grin bloomed on Boris¡¯s face. ¡°The other half isn¡¯t reasonable I¡¯d say,¡± he gloated. ¡°Huh?¡± Elaine¡¯s annoyance drowned into Halkone¡¯s laughter as he held his sides. ¡°You¡¯re on the right track lad,¡± he congratulated Boris and continued to laugh until Elaine drove a cold stare into him. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll shut up,¡± he surrendered, ¡°Don¡¯t want to be the third wheel here. Or is it the fourth wheel? ¡­She doesn¡¯t speak either?¡± Halkone pointed at Thea who sat rooted beside Elaine. Thea grabbed at Elaine¡¯s sleeves in reply. No one else answered Halkone. ¡°¡­.¡± ¡°¡­.¡± ¡°Oi lad, at least you should say something.¡± ¡°¡­.¡± ¡°Goddammit, kids these days can¡¯t take a joke.¡± For the rest of the journey a sour Halkone kept to the driver, not sparing a glance at Elaine or Thea. Boris concentrated upon his will, spreading it out feebly so he could feel the forest as if it were alive. A few birds made it to his lap even here and he fed them some breadcrumbs he had packed earlier. The others watched him pet the snowbills and scatter them about occasionally. He offered one of the birds to Thea who was gazing intently but she froze in fear and retreated behind Elaine. Boris shrugged and turned back to the forest, working his will slowly through the wilderness. The critters numbered in thousands here, some too faint to be felt at all. But Boris knew they were here as surely as he knew there was a snowbill pecking at his hair. There was a flair to feeling the animals that differed from humans. They were not hazy clouds of emotions, bubbling and cluttered. They were a stream of instincts, clear and fluent. Sleeping, searching, hiding, hunting, eating. Yet the multitude of their numbers made them formidable. To single out any one would require him to stress his will and probe harder. That would surely alarm the wilder ones. Boris wondered how Diana would have done it and where she was now. He decided it was no use and turned back to honing his will. Maybe someday he could do it the same way Diana did. It was afternoon when the first hint of trouble dawned. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong,¡± Boris commented. Elaine and Halkone looked at him in query. ¡°The birds are acting up.¡± He grabbed a snowbill that was poking into his sleeves and put it on the wagon¡¯s floor. The little one tweeted a shrill note, conjuring a film of mist around, and scooted back up his sleeves. ¡°See? They¡¯re afraid,¡± Boris stated. Halkone straightened up and beamed at him. Boris watched as the tattoo on Halkone¡¯s neck pulsated softly while he sniffed the air for a long while. ¡°You may be right,¡± he said after some deliberation, ¡°Ready your bow.¡± Boris grabbed his bow and quiver and climbed out, passing by Elaine who now sat alert. ¡°Any word from ahead?¡± Halkone asked the driver while gripping the bastard sword at his back. ¡°None,¡± the man replied. ¡°Should I sound the whistle?¡± he asked further. ¡°Wait a while,¡± Halkone decided. Meanwhile, Boris knelt vigilantly and strung his bow. He fastened the quiver around his waist and hung a pouch of smokescreens and stinkers by his belt. The latter was a product of stinker¡¯s weeds with an awful smell but no firepower. Along with a roll of rope and a sling, he had little else that could serve as a weapon. He would have considered himself poorly armed if not for Halkone¡¯s threadbare armor and two swords. ¡°See anything?¡± Boris asked Halkone while sweeping his will farther along. He felt confused. The liveliness thinned out here and the wild animals all but disappeared. Yet there was nothing unusual to see, just a slight curve of tracks as they moved between two hills. Halkone sniffed the air again and frowned. ¡°This is confusing,¡± he answered while rubbing his bearded cheek. ¡°I could have sworn that I¡ª A horn blew in his face before Halkone could speak anymore, alarming all the guards that something was awry. In perfect mockery of that, the ground erupted. With a deafening bang and a battering blow, Boris found himself flung into the air. Wheels screeched through his ears as the trees spun and the sky vanished from sight. A loud whinnying of horses brought his senses back and Boris grabbed a wayward branch to delay his fall. As it broke and he clamped another, the jittery wagon came back into his view. The horses had stormed off with the front half in tow, leaving only two occupants within the broken remains. ¡°Elaine!¡± Boris screamed, then saw her jump off the teetering vehicle with Thea in her arms. She grasped his desperate arm right as she fell and Boris labored against the atrocious weight pulling him down. The supporting branch creaked and he jammed his foot against another as he began to contemplate his fall. Next moment, the wagon struck something and blew into the air with another blast. Upturned wheels whooshed past Boris by a hair¡¯s breadth even as the wood groaned above him, ready to give. Boris swayed one last time and kicked the airborne wagon hard as he could, using to it to leap at the thicker truck. There was a thud as he collided with the tree and let go of Elaine''s hand. Then with a thump, he slid down and hit the ground. ¡°Anybody hurt?¡± Boris asked in a daze. Elaine had barely registered his question when a shout jarred their ears. ¡°Heads down!¡± someone roared from behind. Elaine dove to the ground promptly, taking Boris and Thea along. For a moment, Boris lay in the cold, numbing grass, cursing whoever had shouted at them. Then he saw it. Something flew in a blur through the air above and crashed into the tree. With a crunch and a bang, the trunk shattered into a hundred splinters that rained down in assault. They bounced off Elaine''s hasty spell but for a heavy log that Boris kicked away. He had sprung up just in time to recognize the culprit. A monstrous boar grappled with Halkone as it razed the forest down to shreds. The Scythian himself had swollen to nearly twice his size and had the monster by its tusks. It looked crazy. ¡°What the¡ª ¡°Stay alert! Here they come!¡± Elaine cautioned. She extended her scepter with one arm and dragged Thea behind with another. Boris looked to find two creatures leap into the air with a threatening growl. Elaine smacked the first into the ground while Boris grabbed the second''s limbs and threw it at the shattered tree. The creature howled as splinters tore through it then rolled away. ¡°What is that?¡± Boris questioned. ¡°Fellynxes,¡± Elaine answered while firing a lightning streak as warning. ¡°Nasty little hunters.¡± They withdrew a few steps and Boris sneaked away hastily to grab his bow and quiver off the ground. Fortunately, most of the arrows were still present. Unfortunately, he had no time to use them. Several hostile presences crept up around them and Boris felt them growing closer. He sighed and wrapped away his bow. Crazy as the situation was, there was no time to ponder. ¡°Elaine, we¡¯re surrounded,¡± Boris warned but Elaine simply nodded. ¡°It¡¯s good that you can at least put up a fight,¡± she answered while shaping a new spell. ¡°I will keep up a small barrier spell and let a few in at a time. We will mow them down and move on. Remember, keep them from the girl and keep yourself from their teeth. Their bite is worse than a thousand needles.¡± ¡°Alright, I''ll try,¡± Boris gulped, trying to keep calm. ¡°Eyes sharp and ears perked. We still don''t know what else is here.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Boris gulped again, trying to contain his unease. The first Fellynx stalked out of a shadow with an angry snarl. The creature was small, barely two feet in length. Two bloodshot eyes stood against its vulpine snout and its fur of hazy red ended in two quivering tails¡ªone was white with streaks of red and the other red with streaks of white. A dozen other tails behind the fellynx marked its companions. Upon each of their throbbing necks hung something unnatural. ¡°They have... collars?¡± Boris remarked. ¡°Well now you know what was stolen from the town''s keep.¡± ¡°Wh¡ªthe cult is here?¡± Boris exclaimed just as the first fellynx lunged at Elaine. She struck it through the neck, ripping the collar off in one precise blow. The monster squealed and fell lifeless with a second prompt blow. It happened so fast Boris could barely register her movement. ¡°Where are you looking?¡± Elaine cautioned again, swiping the sceptre behind her and striking another fellynx even as two more clashed against her barrier spell and failed. ¡°I said,¡± she repeated at the dumbfound Boris, ¡°keep the girl safe,¡± then shoved Thea at him and sliced a third fellynx through its jaw, ¡°and keep alert.¡± She pulled Boris in behind her to face a fourth. ¡°Where''s your do-it-myself spirit now, boy?¡± That ticked Boris off. Diana he could understand, but Elaine was another matter. He saw Elaine drive the fourth fellynx unconscious with a bitter feeling and sandwiched Thea in between himself and Elaine. ¡®Keep calm,¡¯ Boris reminded himself with slow breaths, ¡®Calm, I can do this, I have done this.¡¯ With an awkward pause, his will receded in. The air grew quiet, the forest dull and the fellynxes sluggish. In just a moment, Boris went into action. He slipped around the next fellynx as it leapt for Elaine, grabbed it by the tail and pivoted. The flickering tail sent a jolt of pain up his arm and went limp. The fellynx growled in surprise. Then it was spun around helplessly and thrown into the ground full force. As it clawed into the grass defiantly, Boris plucked an arrow and drove it through the collar''s link. The metal shattered with a shriek and the monster scurried away in agony, leaving a trail of blood in grass. ¡°So it is the collars,¡± Boris suggested while grabbing another fellynx out of the air. Caught mid-lunge, the monster''s snout followed his hand swiftly until it was fed upon another''s tail. The resulting squeal sent the surrounding monsters into disarray while Elaine and Boris broke a collar each. ¡°What did you think it was?¡± Elaine retorted while driving her scepter up another. ¡°Mind control of course,¡± Boris struck back. He caught two fellynxes this time, both aiming for Elaine and drove them into each other with aching arms. ¡°Why are all of them targeting you anyways?¡± ¡°That''s just how it is.¡± A curt response came as Elaine felled the last of fellynxes into the heap of unconscious ones. Boris looked from his side to Elaine''s in evaluation and frowned. ¡°You got twelve, I got four. That''s unbelievable.¡± ¡°Hardly,¡± Elaine responded while pulling Thea close again. The girl blindly obeyed while Boris rolled his eyes and stopped short. Halkone was approaching again. Boris could feel him. When he appeared, the Scythian was still wrestling the boar but unlike before, he was the one pushing it. Boris watched agape as Halkone spun the same way Diana sometimes did. Only this time a whole boar was lifted into the air, spun around like a little kid and hurled across the canopy of trees. ¡°Now that,¡± Elaine offered subtly as a tremor ran through the ground, ¡°is unbelievable.¡± Boris did not counter. He was too busy trying to add physics to fantasy. ¡°Gather your things,¡± Elaine said again, ¡°we need to move. Now. Or it''ll be too late.¡± In the commotion that had occurred, they had lost sight of the rest of the caravan. Boris swept his will around a little farther but he could feel no humans nearby. He held his head and contemplated awhile in thought. ¡°Can we still catch the caravan?¡± he asked Elaine. ¡°Let us hope,¡± Elaine answered. A fiery Halkone reappeared before them riding a wounded boar. Upon his curved lips was a proud smile. ¡°Need a ride?¡± he offered. Boris almost accepted gleefully before Elaine tugged his collar. ¡°No,¡± she said with a stern voice. ¡°We will ride the horses.¡± Halkone clucked his tongue and abandoned the boar. It scurried off into the forest as they went looking for the horses. The driver lay lifeless among the wreckage of the wagon. The look of surprise still held upon his hollow eyes but the rest of his body was a mangled mess. ¡°There goes our guide,¡± Halkone said. ¡°Any ideas?¡± he asked Boris who was desperately suppressing an urge to vomit. ¡°Take the horses,¡± Elaine told Halkone, loosening the yoke and passing the reins to him. ¡°You¡¯re good at this aren¡¯t you?¡± The Scythian took the reins with a shrug and turned to the pale Boris. ¡°I¡¯m starting to see why you put up with her. I wouldn¡¯t myself mind¡ª The rest of Halkone¡¯s banter drowned out as the earth caved and swallowed the driver whole, then clasped shut like a monster¡¯s mouth. After it evened out, there was no trace left of the wagon or the driver. Elaine brushed the ground and plucked one of the reins from the stunned Halkone. ¡°You know, forget what I said just now,¡± Halkone stated as he and Boris mounted the second horse. He rubbed the mane tenderly and calmed the horse. ¡°She¡¯s a little scary for my tastes.¡± Boris did not hear him. Elaine helped Thea aloft the horse and galloped on ahead of Halkone. ¡°Hurry up, there¡¯s no time. We need to find the rest before the night falls.¡± A bit of calm helped Boris reassess the situation along the ride. The situation was anything but calm. They were trapped inside hostile territory. From what he could see, at least two other wagons had suffered the same fate. Shattered remains of wood and iron littered the twisted pathway as it climbed up a hill. The ground itself had been gouged at places and broken trees hung at awkward angles around them. This trail of debris would lead eventually lead them to the caravan, if the caravan remained. Fortunately, Boris did not witness any more dead men along their path, just dead monsters. The wind was picking up westward and though it had cleared the dust, the scent of blood still lingered. Boris scrunched his nose while Elaine carried along undeterred, not stopping to examine the wreckage. ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Boris said, ¡°We had guards but we didn¡¯t even see them coming. I felt nothing at all.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not entirely true,¡± Halkone reminded him, prodding the horse to go faster. ¡°You felt unease remember, I felt the same.¡± ¡°We tripped a snare,¡± Elaine explained softly, ¡°a warded one. Snares may be common but wards are nearly inexistent among bandit traps. It takes an excellent mage and excellent mages have better jobs, more lucrative and less risky. They don¡¯t waste their lives robbing passing caravans.¡± ¡°Unless?¡± Boris asked, disheartened. ¡°¡­unless they¡¯re a fugitive or a black guild, or the Cult.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not saying¡ª Halkone had barely begun when Boris confirmed his worst fears. ¡°She is saying exactly that, Halkone. The Cult raided Water¡¯s Fill a week back, hence the Halberds, hence this.¡± ¡°Oh screw this!¡± the Scythian swore, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me before?¡± ¡°What were you doing last night even?¡± Boris asked with vehement sarcasm. ¡°Not having a drink at your cruddy inn, that¡¯s what!¡± ¡°Both of you, quiet,¡± Elaine ordered. ¡°It is done. We can think of why or when later, for now we need to regroup and escape.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± Halkone confessed, ¡°Now if only someone knew where our comrades are.¡± He pointed at the trail of wreckage that had ended and the wheel tracks that had disappeared into the forest. It did not help that the terrain had turned rough and disorderly. ¡°Beggar¡¯s dream! This is as much a shortcut as taking a labyrinth.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Wait, I think I found them,¡± Boris remarked from behind him. He had felt something against his mind. ¡°Where?¡± Halkone asked doubtfully. ¡°Give me minute,¡± Boris answered and closed his eyes, trying to drown out the noises around. He stirred his will repeatedly until flowed down the hilltop and all around it. ¡®Don¡¯t rush,¡¯ Boris told himself, ¡®calm down.¡¯ The ripples of unease inside his mind died down. His will receded once and he swept it back outside again, filling the dam and letting it spill over. ¡°Boris do not disturb the monsters here, are you listening?¡± Elaine¡¯s caution fell on deaf ears. Boris could feel the forest starkly now¡ªa contrast of subdued monsters against excited ones. He searched deftly, brushing against the minds of hundreds of monsters until he found a horde of humans. Now where was that? He opened his eyes in a daze while trying to reach for those human minds. Suddenly, he jerked and came back to himself. ¡°¡­Boris! Are you listening? What happened,¡± Elaine asked while supporting his shoulders. ¡°Hey lad, are you alright?¡± Boris saw Halkone appear on the horse above and found his aching body on the ground. ¡®When did I fall?¡¯ he wondered. Shaking his head, he struggled to his feet and pointed a finger where the rest of the caravan lay. ¡°There,¡± he said with a tired voice, ¡°let¡¯s hurry.¡± Halkone gazed curiously in the direction and smiled. There was faint trail of birds scattering away from there. Elaine frowned and pushed Boris up the horse. ¡°You did not have to do that! I could have found the place easily,¡± she told him. ¡°I thought we were pressed for time,¡± Boris answered, trying to subdue his headache as he held onto Halkone¡¯s back. ¡°Not so much that you need to faint for it!¡± Elaine countered before climbing back up her own horse. ¡°Let¡¯s hurry Halkone, I think some monsters are coming after me,¡± Boris said weakly. Halkone swore and spurred the horse to a gallop, rushing across the terrain. Elaine followed soon after. ¡°I swear though,¡± Halkone said, gesturing discretely at Elaine, ¡°you should take her as your mother.¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Boris replied with a snarl. ¡°With how much she nags, she¡¯d be better as a wife.¡± Halkone burst out laughing at those words and drove a few monsters away in fear. Inside his mind though, he was actually appraising Boris. It had been a long time since he had witnessed a spirit so tremendous. For someone like Halkone such surprises were rare indeed. If Boris asked him, Halkone was sure he would join Boris¡¯s side. Akin of Jzeth deserved loyalty and honor, even if it came at the hands of a fallen Scythian. _____________________________________________________ Captain Brom marched in morbidly into the Water¡¯s Fill prison. It was not the utter absurdity of his duty that troubled him. Nor was it his destination. Captain Brom prided himself a balanced member of the Divine Hand, and a balanced man, if such a thing existed. He did not share the ardor of his comrades towards Thiracus, or their revulsion towards the pagans. He only shared their thirst for reward and recognition. That was reasonable, he knew. After the sacrifices their Order had made during the Sumarian War and the shame they had suffered despite it, it was only reasonable that they deserved compensation. A compensation that was long denied. Captain Brom brushed his errant thoughts and walked in. Inside the gloomy doors was an establishment of murky rocks and trusty metal. It had reeked of despair and dread for years, serving as both the cage and the grave for the bandits of Needlewoods. But as he descended the twisted stairs into the prison, Brom knew it reeked of worse today. Of cheap blood, wanton death, and fickle carnage. General Cleya was a monster. Brom passed the bloodstained walls and the marred corpses warily, making sure to stab any that were still moving. To clean up after his superior was a tiresome task and not one he preferred. By the time he reached the basement, the death toll was twelve guards and twenty prisoners. After he opened those huge double doors, it was at least double that. Indeed, General Cleya was a monster. That monster now sat upon a pile of corpses, smiling casually. Red splattered her pointed face and stuck to her chestnut hair. Her soft blue eyes held no emotion, her wrinkled cheeks no tension and her scarred brows no doubt. ¡°Oh Brom, did you bring it?¡± she asked happily. ¡°Yes General, I brought your meal.¡± Covering his nose with a scrap of cloth, Brom walked stiffly towards the General and produced the food. Steak and sweet-beans wrapped in an overcooked loaf of bread. Brom did not know which was worse, her taste in food or her taste in ambience. General Cleya snatched her meal and leapt off the pile of corpses onto the sticky red floor. Brom evaded the splash of blood and swept the dead guards off the wooden table, offering her a seat. Cleya took it with pleasure. ¡°Thank you Brom,¡± she said, ¡°I swear, what would I do without you?¡± and proceeded to eat. ¡°It is my duty,¡± Brom replied and took a seat himself. At least Cleya did not bother with formalities. There were generals who wanted their subordinates bowing or kneeling until ordered otherwise. He would leave Cleya for them in a heartbeat. If only Cleya would allow it. ¡°General,¡± Brom began again once Cleya had eaten her fill. ¡°Yes?¡± she asked. ¡°We have reports,¡± he hinted softly. It was not good to cut to the chase before her. Cleya had a history of killing in excitement. ¡°Which one?¡± Cleya asked, drooling. Brom withdrew a piece of cloth to wipe her mouth and explained in a flat voice, ¡°The third caravan that departed today. They took the northwest route through the lesser hills. They¡¯ve run into trouble.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not the bandits?¡± ¡°No. Bandits are rooted in the southwest, as evidenced by the previous caravans. Northwest is not a good place to hide unless you ward it off. Wards and tampered collars were reported too.¡± ¡°Very good Brom, I knew you¡¯d do well.¡± Brom accepted her praise with a shallow smile. ¡°Thank you. Should we send the troops?¡± ¡°Yes. Send word to the allied forces in Goatswind and Barrelfarm. Tell them they owe us one for this. Recall the fifth squad. Tell them to remove the barricade, it¡¯s useless now. The mutts have fallen for the bait. It¡¯s time to raze them down. We will move out immediately. Any questions?¡± ¡°Should I have this cleaned up?¡± Brom asked, gesturing his head at the corpses. Captain Gretkin¡¯s severed head lay there, cradled among the disfigured remains of numerous bodies. Brom did not pity him; Gretkin had always been both wanton and foolish. But in his death, he could still be offered the false honor having battled the Cult. ¡°Oh no,¡± Cleya exclaimed. She wiped her mouth and climbed the mess of bodies. A practiced kick launched Gretkin¡¯s head into the air and she caught it like a ball, parading it before Brom. ¡°Don¡¯t you pity him Brom?¡± she asked petulantly. ¡°The innocent Captain Gretkin and his loyal subordinates. No, we can¡¯t sweep them under the rug! This is evidence, my dear,¡± Cleya said with a wide, eerie smile. ¡°Evidence?¡± Brom asked uneasily. He was sweating but his hand never grasped the sword by his side. Cleya cackled seeing his dumbfounded face. ¡°Brom, Brom, when will you learn to discern the truth? Tell me, who visited this prison today at the earliest?¡± ¡°Elaine Sithe, the maiden of light.¡± ¡°Yes. And, did anyone visit afterwards?¡± Cleya asked with an understanding smile. ¡°No,¡± Brom widened his eyes in realization, ¡°No one.¡± ¡°Very good. This here,¡± Cleya tossed the head and Brom caught it gingerly, ¡°is evidence therefore, of the inhumane atrocities the Maiden of Light committed in the name of the King. She didn¡¯t even spare the prison guards or the prisoners.¡± ¡°¡­.but there¡¯s no precedent for this,¡± Brom answered, still reeling under the alacrity of her scheme. ¡°I wonder about that. Elaine Sithe was the only one to discover the Cultists in Laur though she claims to have killed them. She came here around the same time the Cult invaded. Now she is on the very same caravan that ran into the Cult. Oh, but we are not accusing her. We are just sending a report. The King and the Legion can decide how to interpret it.¡± ¡°You are right. We are just sending a report,¡± Brom nodded, still sweating, ¡°Just a report.¡± ¡°You can go now, captain. Have all the squads ready by the time I arrive. And Brom, you know what to do if that caravan sends for help, don¡¯t you?¡± Brom nodded once again. ¡°The only help they will get will come from us. Their messages will not reach anyone else.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the way,¡± Cleya praised him. ¡°Keep that up and you¡¯ll be a general in no time at all.¡± Brom found a ray of hope in her encouragement¡ªa chance to rise and a way out. She was certainly shrewd, perhaps even more than the Holy Archpriest himself. Brom kept a sardonic chuckle to himself as he walked out that cursed basement. Maybe Thiracus had thrown his fate with Cleya for a reason. If he had Irilea¡¯s mercy along too, he would certainly come out alive and rewarded. A new age was coming. And Brom Drewfort was determined to leave his name upon it. ____________________________________________________________ A slashing sword greeted them the moment Boris entered the trough where the caravan rested. He did not see it coming at all. Halkone parried the sword with his own while Elaine pushed the guard away, creating a gap between them. ¡°Wait!¡± Halkone cried before another guard could attack. He raised his arms and shouted, ¡°We are the rear guards you loonies! Don¡¯t be attacking us!¡± ¡°You are still alive, you goddamned scythian?¡± another voice answered him. Halkone turned to find Gabe and Wylf approaching. A discontent look stood upon their bloodied faces. ¡°Oh, hi there, friends,¡± he greeted them as Elaine dismounted the horse with Thea in tow. ¡°You¡¯re escorting ladies now?¡± Gabe looked from Elaine to Halkone. ¡°Not at all,¡± Halkone replied, prodding Boris to get down. ¡°We were all in the rear wagon when it crashed. What happened here?¡± ¡°You tripped a snare?¡± Gabe asked skeptically. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s all the same. They trapped the whole damned path and sicced the monsters on us. We haven¡¯t even seen their damned faces and we¡¯re four wagons down. Sly bastards!¡± ¡°Anybody knows where they¡¯re hiding?¡± Halkone asked as he dismounted and handed the reins to Boris. ¡°No we don¡¯t,¡± a third, crooked voice answered from behind. Boris turned with a start to find Kale treading slowly towards them. It was the second time he had heard the man speak. He sounded like a wheezing smoker. ¡°Thanks,¡± Boris told Kale. ¡°For pointing out where you were.¡± He did not know how, but Kale had certainly touched his will when he was struggling to find the caravan. ¡°Pay it no heed,¡± Kale brushed him off. ¡°You should go meet with the merchants and tell them you¡¯re alive. Help salvage the remains and repair the wagons.¡± ¡°We need to escape. This whole place is weird.¡± ¡°And how do you propose we do it?¡± Kale asked, looking into the west at the descending sun. Red streaked across the horizon and the wind picked up harsher still. ¡°It¡¯s evening soon. Marching in the night without preparation is suicide.¡± ¡°We are inside the enemy territory,¡± Boris protested. ¡°If we hurry we could make it out before night. That¡¯s what the merchant said.¡± ¡°That merchant is dead,¡± Gabe replied with a bitter face. ¡°Well that makes it clear,¡± Elaine interposed with a smooth nod. ¡°We will need to camp here. It is better to fight full and rested and this is a good place to make a stand. With a little preparation we can at least half of us be alive when morning comes.¡± ¡°Oh, my first time seeing a woman who understands it well,¡± Gabe remarked with a grin. Boris watched the other guards nod with grim expressions. They had all just agreed that half of them could die, come night. And if they were not insane, he certainly was. He still believed that they could emerge unscathed. ¡°What¡¯s your name woman?¡± Gabe asked Elaine while she pondered over their predicament. ¡°That¡¯s not your concern,¡± Elaine replied with her scepter upon his neck. ¡°Now tell me where the head merchant is. If we are going to fight, we are going to need a chain of command.¡± _______________________________________________ Torchlight fell in uneven circles upon the labyrinth¡¯s wall. It left pockets of darkness where Diana crept stealthily, evading the sentries and the traps with delicate precision. This labyrinth was not as large as the one in Laur. Nor was it as heavily populated. But the wards here held a touch of practice and a sense of experience. Nothing Diana could not invade through though. If the Cult could surpass the elves at wards, it would have done so long ago. Diana passed by another sentry as silently as death. It had taken her some time to find this hideout and she was not about to let this go downhill. She needed to know what the Cult was after. And the Cult needed to know that murder had consequences. That the blood of elves was far more precious. As the last fork of the labyrinth came into view, Diana delved into her will again, bringing out a faint weave of scrutiny. Ranging spells would have worked better at this but Diana preferred not to alarm her opponents with magic, or set off any irregular wards. The only spell she had used was to mask her presence and she needed to keep it that way for as long as possible. Diana¡¯s hunt led her down the left tunnel through a broken wall into large, well-furnished hollow. Stairs and furniture had been installed into the walls and dwellings had been partitioned out of wood. At the far end, a huge curtain draped an elevated dwelling. The labyrinth ended afterwards in a mesh of giant boulders and trees. The roots had divided the boulders into a hundred mosaic pieces and yet these very same roots supported them. It was an old labyrinth, Diana decided, at least four or five Infernal wars old, perhaps older. There was no doubt that the Kingdom had forgotten it. The question was how the Cult knew of it and for how long. Very soon, Diana expected answers. Cult leader Nashwere sat rubbing his knuckles in expectation. After receiving word that a pureblood elf had boarded one of the caravans to Bizeon, he had planned to find out and intercept it. By the grace of Solomon, the fools had walked right into their territory and he had dispatched a force to capture the pureblood. A force he deigned sufficient. The date of the ritual was approaching and while he was anxious, Nashwere did not want to be as rash as Viker who had attempted the ritual even before the alignment occurred. Nashwere decided to be patient. Little did he know that patience would drop an elf right into his lap that moment. The first thing Nashwere felt was the cold touch of steel against his carotids and then a colder sense of dread as a full grown elf stood before him, his mouth gagged by her hand. Then his legs froze. Diana pressed the Cult leader against his own bed, freezing his legs with magic while she gagged his mouth. ¡°We have much to talk,¡± she told the gangly man with derision, ¡°and only your tongue can keep my blade from your throat.¡± The man resisted and she knocked him out. When Diana woke him up again with a shower of water, he was tied and bleeding. He screamed but it fell deafly upon the wards she had set up around her. He tried to use a spell but she stunned him and stabbed her knife down his knee. The man groaned in pain and yielded his spell, choosing to curse Diana instead. ¡°Go to hell you damned vixen! You will get nothing from me!¡± ¡°I will get answers from you and you won¡¯t like it if you force me to get them,¡± Diana answered honestly. The man wasted another effort at a spell and got stabbed again, groaning in defeat. He did not seem to be particularly resilient. Tears were already streaming down his eyes and his face was cramped and sweaty. Diana healed his wounds a little as he cursed her and spoke again, ¡°I have no qualms against your twisted kind,¡± she said, making a faint cut across his neck, ¡°and a particular hatred because of what they pulled inside Laur. A young elf was sacrificed for summoning demons. I want to know why?¡± Nashwere felt the dreadful assault of Diana¡¯s will as he stared into her reddening eyes. It took a lot of effort for him to control his bladder. Now there was another urgent reason he needed to be free. ¡°You will never know elf,¡± he sneered. ¡°You will die ignorant and despairing. Such is the fate of traitors and heretics.¡± That was not a wise move. A solid smack rang against his skull as Nashwere spit out blood and saliva. Another cracked his nose open and a third tore his cheeks into his teeth. Diana did not spare any mercy. ¡°I am not interested in your gods and prophecies,¡± she uttered with apathy. ¡°Ignorance has been your faith and despair your destiny. But when you drag elves into your lunacy you had better tell me why.¡± Nashwere spit at Diana¡¯s face and lost four teeth in return. She healed him a little and stabbed his hand. ¡°Why?¡± she asked and healed, then stabbed again. Nashwere cried and cursed, Diana stabbed and healed. The cuts were shallow but painful. They healed easily and wounded easier still. Diana wove her will around Nashwere''s mind, assaulting him with a storm of rage and ruthlessness. It made Nashwere go nearly insane as he babbled incoherently. ¡°I know you want to summon the scourge,¡± Diana insinuated. She looked at the contorted face of Nashwere and afforded him a moment''s rest to think. ¡°Why?¡± she asked, pressing her will harder against him, ¡°What do the scourge have to do with this?¡± ¡°Curses and curses more!¡± Nashwere babbled, laughing madly through his bloody lips. ¡°Seventeen meets seventeen again! It comes.... It will come! Wahahahaha!¡± He looked at Diana in madness and sneered. Diana sighed. This was not going the way she wanted at all. The wards she had planted were only temporary. If she did not have an answer soon, this would end in futility. She healed Nashwere again and hit him with a lightning spell, sending a spasm through his body. ¡°Do you hate me?¡± she asked. ¡°Well?¡± In the end, Nashwere¡¯s anger made him slip. ¡°You will not win elf!¡± Nashwere roared, ¡°We will.... get what we want! We will! ...get that which your kind has hidden for centuries!¡± ¡°Yes. That which my kind have hidden for centuries, yes,¡± Diana nodded, healing him again. ¡°What is that?¡± she asked, stabbing again. Nashwere mumbled ludicrously in reply. ¡°What?¡± Diana repeated and bent closer. Nashwere flashed a toothless grin and executed a spell, catching Diana off guard. As the wards exploded and Diana leapt back cautiously, she caught a few verses out of Nashwere¡¯s mouth with growing horror. ¡°By eight of thin of green blood and one of Solomon¡¯s kin, Shall last of rites be fulfilled and end in last of sin¡­.¡± ____________________________________________________________________________ Alright, since I have space and time here, I have decided to conduct a Q&A session. Of course, you people don''t have questions to ask. But someone does. Here we invite, Mr. Rancor *slow deliberate claps* Mr. Rancor, welcome to the first prestigious Q&A session by your truly! *cue dramatic music* *more claps* Me: Take a seat Mr. Rancor. But before we begin, can I interest you in revealing the meaning behind your unique name? It sounds quite offensive (and retarded). R: Dude, I am the one askin'' the questions, rite? Me: Of course! (What a snob!) R: Whatevs, since I''m in a happy mood, I''ll tell ya. My name is short for Random Concerned Reader. See? Me: Oh, what a clever ruse! (This sucks already!) R: Yeah, yeah, can we get on to the important stuff? Imma start askin'' questions. Me: Ask away Q: WTF happened! A: (Looks like we got a bad mouthed one!) Er? Oh, well what happened is that Halberds didn''t want to waste their force by splitting it up across the Needlewoods so they tricked the caravans by blocking passage and sending them all through various routes as bait for the Cult. The cult instead wanted a pure blood elf and they got hooked by the caravan Boris boarded. Diana left as soon as she understood the cult was here (because Halberds) and went in search for them. Does that answer you? Q: How fuckin'' jumbled! Make this simpler! A: Halberds X Cult X Diana and the caravan is caught in between. (Retard!) Q: Kay, then like Boris got too much will thing man? Ain''t that cheating? A: Nah, that''s logical. You will understand in time. (Why the fuck do you care?) Q: And like that will thing is so confusing. He can feel and attack both? A: Yep. Just like you can do a lot of things with mana, you can do a lot of things with will. (use your head man!) Q: Damn, and then there''s this spirit thing too? A: No, no, spirit is just what Scythians call the will. That''s a vague description and they often confuse it with other things. (again, use your head) Q: And who the hell be Jzeth? A: You''ll get to know. Q: You got damn too many characters. Remove some, maybe kill them. A: (Pff! You wish!) Sorry, that''s not going to happen. (Unless I want it!) You only need to remember the prominent characters anyway. Q: Then you got damn too many women. And why the hell are they so strong? A: (Fuck! He caught on to that! Need to use big words, big words.) Well, I understand the relevance of your concern regarding the unusual depiction of women in a medieval fantasy as being both anachronous and incongruous but considering that the fundamental premise of this work constructs a world that is both anachronous and incongruous in itself it should serve as a sufficient rationale for depiction of women in a different, albeit unusual, light even if it was merely designed as an exercise to indulge a rather clandestine imagination and stimulate those senses that commonplace works often both appeal and allude to. Q: Lolwut? A: (Got you sucker!) As for your concern over why the women depicted have so much strength I can only counter that it is not that the women are all strong but merely that I have biased myself and hence you by a deliberate mention of only those women who are indeed strong and have enough merit to rise in this world. I assure this is certainly not due to my taste in women or some such insignificant issue but that the plot necessitates that I forge my characters of a stronger mettle and spirit in order to face immense odds if they are ever to overcome it. In conclusion-- Q: Fuck this shit! I am leaving! A: And that concludes our first prestigious Q&A session. If you have more questions, leave them down here. Who knows you might actually get a half-decent answer. *curtain falls* ________________________________________________________________________________ 17. Decisions IV - A desperate stand Small update people. I am almost done with this chapter but it was 12k words. I am splitting it. (Again.) So you get that last chapter of this arc tomorrow. You know the drill. _______________________________________________________________________________________ Decisions IV - A desperate stand A shriek of agony tore into the night like a wolf into its prey. Blood dripping from his gut, a scout wrestled with the enemy¡¯s dagger as he raised the alarm. It reached the hilltop before his blood soaked the grass and returned with a cacophony of defiance. ¡°They have come!¡± Halkone bellowed , ¡°Huddle up!¡±. The line of guards beside him burst into action, raising their shields and swords in a close-knit formation. They stood upon the slope where the caravan rested, facing the side that opened to the road. The hilltop itself guarded their blind side along with a makeshift barricade of wagons where the archers, including Boris, hid. Between them were a handful of mages, some of them passengers. Elaine earlier guessed the main assault of the enemy would come up here. Elaine guessed right. The terrain was easier to navigate here, and the dense thickets provided good cover against the top. It also gave the enemy the advantage of cutting off their retreat. Boris felt the disturbance in the air grow stronger and breathed out, trying to calm himself. It was difficult to feel for intruders when half the men around him were seething with killing intent. He relaxed and withdrew his will. If he could not find the enemy, then he would rather the enemy too did not find him. From his perch, upon a rocky outcrop, he watched Elaine bark orders. ¡°Barrier¡¯s up!¡± Elaine demanded. A small group of mages responded by shaping up a large barrier spell. A storm of fire and lightning clashed against it the next moment, rousing the dark forest in flickers and flashes. Cinders and ashes scattered across the the wind while charred splinters sprang from tottering trees. The assault died down into a slow burning trail of smoke and resonating cries of the enemy mages. ¡°Hold!¡± Elaine shouted again and the mages persevered. A second shower of fire and lightning spells descended. They thundered as they bounced off the barrier and scuttled across the ground with a discontent rumble, raising a cloud of dirt and debris and shearing the grass into burnt shreds. ¡°Hold!¡± Elaine commanded. The mages obeyed. As the third shower of spells boomed against the barrier spell, Boris could make out the forms of their enemies in the flashes. He was sure it was the same for the other archers too. Had Elaine been waiting for this? ¡°Now!¡± Elaine commanded and the mages relented on their spells. Guards raised torches into the night and a flurry of arrows swept the air the same moment the magic barrier dispelled. The sudden switch to offensive took the enemy by surprise and a few of them fell in the first volley itself, much to Elaine¡¯s satisfaction. ¡°Halkone!¡± Elaine pointed and the Scythian raised a huge war cry. The frontline split immediately and ran in four different directions, evading the last shower of enemy spells that scoured the hillside to raise a havoc. From behind the chao s, a host of angry growls unfurled. Monsters leapt across the slope with hungry jaws and furious glares, eager to chew through everything before them. The cultist forces spread behind the monsters in an attempt to pincer them and crossed the two frontline groups led by Halkone and Kale just as Elaine¡¯s mages prepared their next spell. ¡°Hit them!¡± Elaine cried at the mages and they fired the next spell. A mound of earth rose out the hillside two feet into the air. The stampede of monsters collided legs first into the obstruction and scrambled over each other as they fell. The second crop of arrows fell into the monster horde with deadly precision and evoked a chain of howling that added to the mayhem. ¡®Zero casualties so far,¡¯ Elaine calculated while the mages retreated. Two of the four frontline groups retreated along with them, forming a perimeter as they rushed towards the barricade of wagons. ¡®But this is it,¡¯ she regretted. There was no accurate count of the enemy and their own men would fall anytime now. To Elaine¡¯s sides, the other two frontline groups led by Halkone and Kale each, dove into the enemy force from the sides and rushed for the mages. Halkone pushed through like a boar, uprooting trees and men alike while five others followed him. His spirit surged through his muscles in brazen eagerness, craving for strength. Halkone killed two mages with a heavy swing of his sword as the first of his guards fell behind him. ¡°Onwards!¡± he roared and hurled a third mage across the slope to darkness beyond. A spell struck his back and ripped his skin bare. As Halkone turned to smash the culprit, two more swords sliced gashes in his legs. Halkone bashed a few heads in retaliation. ¡°Take his followers out first!¡± a warrior cried ahead of Halkone. ¡°Do not pause!¡± Halkone yelled and slashed apart that warrior¡¯s head. They tore through the enemy force in feverish agitation, never stopping. A blood-dripping Halkone emerged out of the carnage with a vehement roar and found Kale''s force of guards close behind. ¡°Kale!¡± he called and Kale nodded. They came back to back and faced the enemy''s rear. Kale looked at their combined forces. ¡°Eight left out of fifteen,¡± he said, ¡°this is going better than I thought. Now let''s rip them to shreds.¡± As if denying his optimism, a second force emerged out behind them with a defiant roar. Spells went up in the air again as Halkone swore wide eyed and the next swath of monsters approached. ¡°Seven hells! Where did they get so many?¡± Fimberhounds leapt at them with drooling mouths and fellynxes prowled around with angry leers. These beasts were not all nocturnal but that didn''t make them any less dangerous. Supported by another force of mages and warriors, they could be led right into the target. Kale leapt into the air, using the hounds as footstools, and dived into the enemy mages behind. Halkone and his men followed suit. They hacked through the limbs and backs, splattering blood and gore. ¡°Steady!¡± Halkone commanded and slammed a fimberhound against the ground, squashing it dead. Fire grazed his hair before and evoked a groan as his fellow man fell and he rushed ahead, through the monsters and into the warriors¡¯ spears that protected. ¡°Focus on the men!¡± Halkone ordered, and slaughtered two spearmen with a heavy swing of his sword. His subordinates obeyed, ignoring the monsters who rushed up the hill in blind haste. ¡®I hope you''re prepared girly,¡¯ Halkone thought of Elaine and eyed the enemy mages. If he emerged alive, he would have a drink on Lady Luck. If he emerged dead... well then, Lady Luck would have a drink on him. Uphill, the central force of guards and mages braved the enemy advance with growing desperation. Elaine expected the enemy to have fallen into disarray by now. But the appearance of a second force farther down crushed her wish. ¡®Nothing ever goes my way,¡¯ she lamented. It was quite possible for her to kill each man here, but to save even half was beyond the realm of hope. ¡°Archers on your own!¡± Elaine barked and slipped into the battlefield. She¡¯d warned Boris to steer clear of trouble. To take Thea and run if things went downhill. ¡®Well,¡¯ Elaine smirked, looking down at her enemies, ¡®things are going downhill one way or other.¡¯ Elaine swept into the enemy force, glowing. She sliced into the limbs and flanks while clobbering the rear mages with her own spells. The entire enemy force stood glued to her like moths to a flame. At every space she faced, there was a person eager to fight her. ¡®Are these people retarded or something?¡¯ Boris grimaced as he shot an enemy from behind. The arrow struck the shoulder and the enemy spun in surprise, only to be stabbed from behind. Boris exhaled and calmed his jittery hand, giving no thought to his conundrums. There were parts of his mind cringing from the show of violence and parts of his mind yearning for escape. ¡®Stop thinking!¡¯ Boris decided. He pulled another arrow taut against the bowstring. His breath eased, his mind emptied and his eyes narrowed. The enemy was slow and predictable, like the world around him. With a slow breath, Boris slackened, eyes rooted at one particular head, and released the bowstring. His arrow hit the shoulder again, his arm skewed the very last moment. The wind? Or his aim? At barely thirty feet, these were poor excuses for missing. Boris fumbled and nocked another arrow. He shunned his wavering heart and forced his mind empty. He aimed again. The rising clamor of angry growls interrupted his aim as Boris witnessed another pack of monsters, from fellynxes to fimberhounds, scrambling uphill. Guards now struggled beside the barricade¡¯s support and would soon break down. He traced the line of wagons to the far end, beyond which the merchants and other passengers stayed hidden in a recess. If the barricade broke, it wouldn''t end with a few deaths. ¡®But what to do!¡¯ Boris hesitated. ¡®Smokescreens, useless. Stinker''s balls, worthless.¡¯ He saw Elaine sever the enemy with massive swings of her glowing scepter. Light attracted the beasts. Could she deal with so many at once? ¡°Boris run!¡± Elaine hollered when she noticed him so near the enemy force. Boris broke out of his trance with a jerk. A slash nicked his flank. He cringed, horrified to find himself face to face with enemies. ¡®Oh shit!¡¯ He ducked under the swordsman¡¯s blow and glimpsed the encroaching beasts. ¡®I can only run,¡¯ he cursed, the blade ripping his quiver¡¯s harness. He threw the quiver at the swordsman and backtracked. ¡®Think! Think! Think!¡¯ The blade ran slick into the air with a whinnying wind as Boris remembered Elaine¡¯s words. And don¡¯t provoke anything outside either. It will come running for your blood before you know it ¡®Need to run,¡¯ Boris affirmed. He clutched the burning wound . The sword swung back in an upward slant. And Boris vanished from its sight. His weight sent him crouching and his will spiraled out. The swordsman balked while Boris swept a leg under him. He tottered and Boris spun, kicking his gut full force. The man choked as he toppled back into Elaine¡¯s scepter and died. ¡®Screw this!¡¯ Boris squeezed his legs'' mana veins and lunged foot first into the throng below. Heads swiveled under his feet as he bounced, arcs of blood trailing him. Boris flailed and contorted his will as much as he could. His mind reeled with annoyance and pain. Then Boris sprang out of the enemy force, bruised but alive, and landed before the invading monsters. And with a sneer, he stormed his will out. A wave of annoyance swept over the hill like an overflowing sewer, muddled with pain and frustration. It hit everything alive with a sharp provocation and a stabbing headache. The startled monsters monsters squealed in agony, the fighting humans grouched in pain. ¡°Who the hell!¡± somebody cried and turned towards Boris. ¡°Get over here you asshole!¡± Boris laughed brazenly and tossed a dozen stinker''s balls all around, adding to the annoyance with the stench. Then he pressed his screaming will even harsher, drawing frenzied noises from humans and monsters alike. ¡°Well, little pricks, come and get me!¡± he cried as he fled, his legs pumping strength madly. The monsters stalked after him in blind rage but the enemies stayed behind, caught in a brawl they could not yet abandon. Boris scuttled down the slope in a twisted path. He slithered between trees and roots, ignoring the growls that stalked him. A fireball crashed the tree ahead. Boris ducked and twisted away. Embers scorched his back as he leapt for grass and rolled down between a jutting boulder and leaning trees. Sickles cut into the ground behind and shredded the grass. Screaming, Boris lunged away and hit another trunk. His will screamed with him, stabbing everything he could feel. His swiveling sight found balance as he skid under the branches, beckoning his stalkers through the endless maze. Very soon, he would reach where Halkone should have been. Monsters leapt downhill towards Halkone as he crushed another enemy with irritation. They were down to three men now, him, Kale and another. But rather than face the enemy, he was more inclined to beat the life out of whoever it was that had been assailing their heads. The enemy was the same. Just moments ago, they were exchanging blows with the weight of their very souls. Now they were flapping arms around and searching for the scoundrel who should''ve been nearby. Suddenly, the enemy chief jerked. He noticed the monsters and found the object of his ire running around like a monkey. ¡°Kill that bastard!¡± his sword pointed, he roared at his fellow men. ¡°Yeah! Kill that little shit!¡± Halkone agreed. Then realized it was Boris. ¡°Oh wait!¡± He swung the bastard sword upward, hefting a spearman in reckless slaughter. Blood washed him as his own fell. Now it was just him and Kale. They both faced each other in a rare moment of understanding and decided to slip out. ¡°Incoming!¡± Boris cried as he rushed into the enemy force. He did not need to. A hail of arrows and spells was already headed his way. ¡°Bloody shit!¡± Boris regretted and pivoted into a curve, shirking from the enemy assault and provoking them further. A couple of arrows and spells grazed him. His tattered clothes ripped open to the cold wind, soaked in blood. ¡®Do something! Plan! Plan!¡¯ Boris blabbered in pain as he scampered for cover behind the trees and was blown away by a burst of lightning, crashing into the horrid grass. He struggled to his feet even as the monsters gained behind him with bloodshot eyes. ¡®Damn! Damn! There¡¯s gotta be- right!¡¯ Boris spewed a mouthful of grass and dirt and reverted to the enemy. He tossed the handful of smokescreens before the eager enemy and felt for the monsters behind. A desperate wave of his will drove the monsters furious as they rushed into the cloud of smoke ahead. Boris sprinted, skidding into the smoke, and eased his will back within. One moment, two moments, and he was gone... his presence vanished. The fury of his pursuers however, was not so easily calmed. The monsters and the enemies dove into the smokescreen in mad frenzy and skewered each other. Screams and howls intensified inside the smoke and curses resounded once it cleared. Half the monsters lay dead upon the ground but Boris was not among them. ¡°What the hell! Where is that¡ª The enemy chief''s head streaked through the air before he could complete those words, and rolled into the growing pile of dead men. ¡°Enemy head just lost his head!¡± Halkone roared from behind the enemy force and strode. A discrete Kale joined him. There were just two dozen men left now and it was a fair gamble for life. Apparently. As Boris emerged from within the bushes and sneaked away, he heard a growl and found out that not all monsters were so easily dissuaded. There were a couple of fimberhounds behind him, their collars glowering red, and by their smug snort, Boris knew they picked up his scent. ¡°Um, hi there, do you believe we could¡ª Boris turned tail and ran. Between their drooling mouths and their glistening teeth, he had no mind to think up a counterplan. Maybe if there was a marsh here. But of course there wasn''t! After leading the monsters around another curve, Boris decided not to run up the hill. He was approaching his limits. A hammering heart and a throbbing head agreed. ¡®I can''t run much longer,¡¯ he realized with a growing panic and cramping legs. ¡®Need to outrun them, need something, any-bloody-thing¡ª¡¯ as Boris watched a growing crowd of monsters stalking him again, his eyes fell on the fimberhound at the front, it''s metallic collar still glowering red. If collars were control devices then¡ª ¡®No, no more crazy,¡¯ Boris dithered as his pace started to fall. ¡°Well,¡± Boris gasped, his eyes burning, ¡°just a little maybe.¡± The fimberhound leading the hunt found Boris within his range and lunged for him voraciously. Boris twisted to evade the claws and clasped the fur with a wild jump at the fimberhound''s back. A short struggle saw him grappling with the monster''s jaws as it growled and ran astray, trying to overthrow Boris. Boris flailed one moment before clasping his thighs against the fimberhound. He dug his head into its struggling neck. His right clamped the monster¡¯s back and his left seized the collar. Searing pain ruptured through his hand. The collar sparked and burst part, leaving Boris moaning for his burnt hand. The fimberhound found this moment opportune to tackle him into the tree and toss him aloft. As Boris found himself airborne, he caught a glimpse of the confused fimberhound wobbling while it rolled into the grass. Then he witnessed a second pack of hounds right behind. It didn¡¯t work the way he wanted, he grieved. But he would make do with that. Aching legs landed Boris into the grass with strenuous effort. Unsteadily, he lurched towards the un-collared fimberhound. He grasped it by the neck again and stared into his eyes, forcing his will upon it. ¡°Well buddy,¡± Boris forced a smile on his cramped face and pointed at the monsters behind, glowering with rage. ¡°If we are going down,¡± he stressed, ¡°we are going down together. Or we could run. It was not clear if the fimberhound understood Boris''s threat or realized the pinch itself, seeing a dozen crazy hounds in pursuit. But the fimberhound ran as if its very life depended on escape and indeed, it did. Boris goaded the monster through twists and turns with his working hand. It was a lot easier without the reins. Together, they fled down the hill and right into the enemy remnants once again. ¡°Not again!¡± Boris cursed, looking back and forth between his problems. ¡°How did I forget this?¡± ¡°He is here!¡± a warrior roared and Boris smacked that head while urging the fimberhound into a leap. They landed right across Halkone who was too busy parrying the enemy strikes to care. The enemy cared and lost his arm to Halkone''s slash. ¡°Oi don''t tell me,¡± Halkone parried a strike from behind and bashed against another man upfront, taking a moment to realize Boris, ¡°you are bringing them crazies again!¡± ¡°Not my fault!¡± Boris retorted. He located a mage conjure a fireball. The fimberhound jumped while Boris fell and rolled upon the ground. Rocks tore gashes into his back as Boris evaded the spell and passed right below the mage''s legs. He landed a nice, clean blow. The mage frothed and fell unconscious. Scampering away, Boris struggled through a berserk slash of swords by weaving through them, losing his belt and strands of his hair in the process. ¡°Little hound!¡± Boris shouted, sweeping his will around, ¡°where are you?¡± He found it just as killing intent spiked behind him. Boris bent over in alarm. A spear thrust above him and he shuddered. He felt another man and rolled over twice. Daggers gouging the air in his wake and he slumped back. Metal clanged against metal in a deafening screech. Boris smelled charred flesh and balked. Sparks fell upon his wounded back. It was painted in a dozen red gashes by now but his life was far more precious than his skin. He noticed the fimberhound just ahead. Planting his hand at the ground, Boris kicked an enemy behind and cartwheeled in the air, falling upon the fimberhound and goading it on. ¡°Don''t stop, don''t stop, don''t stop!¡± he pleaded as more thrusts and slashes nicked his sides. He swerved each instant, predicting the attacks but impeding the fimberhound''s movement. The monster growled in displeasure. Boris clucked his tongue in retort, using a moment to kick the warrior before them. ¡°Stop complaining alright! I''ll treat you to a meal if we live through this!¡± The fimberhound snorted but agreed, or that is what Boris felt it did. For the next instant, it breathed fire upon the enemies, making them withdraw in caution and rushing through the gap created. ¡°That''s how you do it!¡± Boris praised and tossed the last smokescreen into the crowd behind. Smoke engulfed the enemy as the monsters approached. Having met the same fate once, they dispersed out of the area and thinned out instead of greeting the monsters. Halkone and Kale greeted them one by one with the swing of blades and stab of daggers. Of the entire enemy force, only two remained at last. ¡°Well I''d say the odds are even now!¡± Halkone announced, breathing heavily and grasping his sword with both hands now. His augmentation had worn off a while ago but tenacity kept him alive. ¡°I wonder,¡± Kale disagreed and pointed to the horde of monsters that picked the last two members without a pity, tearing them to shreds. ¡°Yeah, let''s just run,¡± Halkone agreed and they strode back up the hill as best as they could, leaving the monsters to chase after Boris. It was the least he deserved. The monsters drifted out of the smoke and back on his trail when Boris decided he had better leave this last lot to Elaine. Hopefully she was done with the other enemies by now. He spurred the fimberhound back up the hill and raced between the trees and rocks with concentration. Elaine Sithe felled the last cultist by parting his abdomen halfway through and pushing him down. He fell into the lifeless heap of bodies behind him as Elaine turned in haste to look for Boris. ¡®That stupid stupid,¡¯ she cursed. Pushed against the broken barricade, she could not afford her way out of the tussle to give Boris chase. When he came back she would give him a well deserved earful. When he came back... yes, he would. ¡°Lady Elaine!¡± one of the remaining guards shouted for her. Elaine turned in frustration to see the injured man pointing below her, where a wounded Boris emerged, riding a fimberhound. She froze as he hurried at her in panic. ¡°Elaine, there''s a few more coming after me!¡± Boris skirted around her back, leaving her to face the monsters in pursuit. Elaine slackened and jumped down. She would smack him later for this. The first light of dawn spread when Elaine faced the last of monsters. Her woven hair billowed gold in the westward wind and her scepter sharpened itself once again into a blade of light. She sliced through the collars of monsters in rapid, precise strikes. It left some wounded and some dead but most scurried off the moment their collars were torn apart. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Once she was done, Elaine looked at Boris with a piercing glare. ¡°You have some explaining to do,¡± she said, but then turned around to see the aftermath of battle around her. The wounded needed looking after and the dead needed a burial. ¡°I guess it can wait,¡± she concurred with Boris''s drained face and called for the remaining guards to begin relief work. ________________ Halkone emerged at the hilltop the same moment a flare went off to their south and his addled mind rang a perfunctory alarm. The merchants were in trouble. ¡°Dragon''s turd!¡± Halkone cursed as all at the hilltop realized what the flare meant. Elaine was the first to rush forth and Boris followed soon after on a fimberhound, the third being a reluctant Halkone who augmented speed. A few others dragged their feet afterwards but never made it in time. South of the hill was an abrupt cliff that ended in a perilous bed of rocks. It did not offer good footholds or cover, except for a recess where Elaine had hidden the merchants, passengers and six strong guards. In case the enemy decided to march up there, they would have fallen to a one sided assault. If the enemy sent reinforcements, Elaine would have done the same. It worked out well. Until now, that is. Even Elaine did not expect the Cult to have a wyvern. They had two. It might have been that these beasts were diurnal. Nobody wanted to ride a blind wyvern. But that part of luck ran out as soon as sunlight flooded in. Elaine watched as one of the wyverns pounced upon the hillside and lopped up two terrified guards, ripping them apart with its sharp teeth. Its thorny tail swiped through the air in fury as it flapped large, webbed wings to work up a shallow upthrust. ¡°Give us the elf!¡± a woman on the wyvern cried. ¡°Give her to us and we will leave!¡± The second wyvern pounced after first and plucked a wailing merchant in his jaws, then gnashed apart his limbs with a ruthless crunch of bones. ¡°Give us the elf if you want to live!¡± the man upon the wyvern repeated. ¡°The only thing you will get here,¡± Elaine barked, bringing attention to herself, ¡°is death!¡± She fired a streak of lightning the grazed the woman narrowly and left a wound upon the wyvern''s wing. The creature snarled and leapt for Elaine. Elaine sliced the wounded wing into two as the wyvern''s claws dug into her. The creature rammed into the ground but clawed harder into her limbs. As the wyvern rolled over the hillside and fell, it pulled a startled Elaine along. Boris gaped in shock as Elaine fell over the edge and a woman leapt off the dying wyvern to the ground ahead. ¡°No!¡± he cried. His frantic arms urged the fimberhound to rush. The beast obeyed but never caught up, felled midway by the enemy who just appeared. Boris lost balance and crashed into the ground in a daze. A bloody cough spat out of his dirt-choked mouth as he glared at the woman before him. His mana tree pulsed a violent wave of rage through his body. ¡°You are nex-@!?(/ A sudden blow dislocated the woman''s jaw mid-speech and her desperate hands went to her face the same moment Boris attacked her flank. She choked in agony while Boris hit her ankles with a sharp kick. As her legs flailed and her body groveled in pain, Boris kneed her abdomen with all his strength and clutched her throat. ¡°What did you do?¡± he asked. His bloodshot eyes stared into her scared face. ¡°What the hell did you do!¡± he roared and dragged her towards the edge. ¡°Leave her now!¡± Leroth, the man on the other wyvern, threatened. Boris stared back at him. ¡°Sure,¡± he sputtered and flung the woman over the hillside, letting her drop to death the way she did to Elaine. ¡°You bastard!¡± Leroth howled, ¡°You think you have won this? We have an army here!¡± He looked slightly into the distance where the Cult''s hideout was, disguised under a hill. And even as he watched, that hill exploded. A show of fire and smoke went up into the grey sky as the earth shook in alarm, adding the color of doom to his fiery eyes. ¡°You mean you had an army?¡± Boris replied with a sardonic scowl. How he wished he could just fly and rip that man apart. Make him beg for life. And then crush his heart. Why did Elaine have to die just because of these crazed fanatics? The cultist tried to aim for Boris but noticed Thea trying to crawl out of the recess and mistook her for the elf trying to escape. He bent over and grabbed the girl, restraining her while she struggled in defiance. Then he slowly spurred the wyvern onward. Halkone reached the hilltop to find another man atop a soft-bred Kinberg wyvern and Thea captured beside him. ¡°I have the elf now,¡± the man declared with a cruel smile. ¡°Oi what is going on here?¡± Halkone asked, looking from Boris to the wyvern. ¡°Why do they have a Kinberg? And collared no less?¡± The cultist frowned at the sight of Halkone and noticed more guards approaching. It was time to retreat, he decided, but his hideout was no more. A small pause occurred to the wyvern''s flight as the cultist wondered where to go. Simultaneously, Boris ran towards Halkone at a terrifying speed. ¡°Halkone!¡± Boris cried as he squeezed his mana veins despite a queasy heart. Somehow, the Scythian understood him without words. Halkone augmented the last of his strength as his body swelled. ¡°You have only got one chance at this!¡± he roared. ¡°Once is enough!¡± Boris responded, extorting even more strength from his muscles. He lunged at Halkone and the Scythian grabbed his leg firmly. For an instant, they both felt a jolt of pain run through their bodies. Then Halkone launched Boris into the air with the speed of an arrow. ¡°...grant me strength beyond numbers!¡± Boris heard Halkone recite in a weird tongue. The next moment, he was riding the wind. The cultist watched agape as Boris came flying for him. In a desperate maneuver, he tried to steer the wyvern away. Then he felt something strong grasp at his mind and pull him back towards Boris. ¡°Come here!¡± Boris shouted, pressing his will against the wyvern''s in rage. The monster leapt back for him with ravenous jaws but Boris evaded narrowly, colliding head on with its rider. They both fell across the wyvern¡¯s back and scrambled for foothold. ¡°You bloody!¡± the cultist cried as he tried to shove Boris off the wyvern but failed. ¡°I''ll push the girl!¡± he threatened while they wrestled upon the flailing wyvern. ¡°Let''s see you do it!¡± Boris countered. ¡°Someone will catch her, but you''re going down.¡± He parried the man''s blow and dove instead towards the wyvern''s head, clutching its collar. With another spark and a horrifying jolt of pain through his burnt arm, Boris found the collar burst apart. The wyvern began to sway without control. ¡°No, what have you done!¡± the cultist cried as the spinning wyvern compelled him to cling for dear life. Thea freed herself with a start and Boris pulled the girl while he clutched the now confused wyvern''s neck with his burnt hand. He would take it down. ¡°Land!¡± Boris pressed his will against the wyvern but the monster screeched in displeasure, trying to throw them off its back. As each person grabbed for safety upon the squirming wyvern, Boris stressed his exhausted will against the wyvern''s growing defiance. ¡°Land!¡± he smashed against its mind and tried to crush it. A disgruntled wyvern swerved blindly before it hit the ground and toppled, throwing three people across a dozen feet. It then scrambled to its feet with a violent shake its snout and stormed off into the daylight. His head bleeding and his ears ringing, Boris forced himself up against the dizziness. He felt cold and disconcerted. A landscape of red twirled through his burning eyes. Within his shaky vision, the cultist now held a blade against Thea''s neck, shouting threats and profanities. Fresh blood appeared on his lips as Boris bit them in vexation. He did not care anymore. He took a step forward and the man retreated. He looked at the man draw a line of blood across Thea''s cheek, yelling. Boris did not heed those words. He needed to kill, to let these bastards go to hell. They needed to pay. For taking hostages. For killing Elaine! Boris did not watch Halkone rush towards him. He did not notice the few remaining guards come up the hill. He did not even see the terrified face of Thea. He only saw the enemy''s dagger swing through the air and marched right into it. The dagger aimed at Thea dug into his arm as Boris blocked it. He did not flinch while his flesh writhed in agony at the touch of metal. Pain was starting to lose its meaning inside the swirls of his mind. His strength was failing him. But not yet. He was not done. The metal dagger streaked across the across the air with a burst and Boris sneered at the terrified Leroth. Boris pressed Leroth''s retreating foot into the ground and clenched his throat in one swift movement. The cultist panicked and drew a second dagger, trying to stab Boris in the chest. The dagger missed its mark as Boris caught Leroth''s thrust with his wounded left and twisted it back towards the man deftly. While Leroth struggled to release his arm, Boris pulled his neck in and let his foot go. Leroth fell with a jerk into his own dagger, impaling his throat upon that blade. Blood spurted all around as Leroth thrashed about in horror. Boris felt the warm fluid paint him blind. He felt the enemy squirm under his hands and shake violently. He felt the enemy weaken and die. Only then did Boris let him fall to the ground, silently. What a tasteless vengeance it was. It left him hollow. Wanting. He should have broken a few bones before he killed the man. Should have lit him up in flames! Between the screams of his mind, Boris noticed Thea upon the ground and approached her. ¡°No!¡± she cried with a look of horror and desperation. ¡°Thea we need to¡ª ¡°No!¡± She shrunk back and batted away his hands. Why was she being so annoying? Was it his hands? Boris looked at his hands and found them stained crimson. Did he do something wrong? He did not know. His mind was not working the way it should have. ¡°I am sorry,¡± he told Thea unwittingly, wiping his hands upon his tattered clothes. ¡°No!¡± she cried again. ¡°Yeah,¡± he agreed, feeling her will. ¡°Yeah, you''re right. I''ll¨C I''ll just leave you to the others.¡± Weakness spread through his body as Boris turned and fell to his knees. The pain did not return. His body felt numb. His mind refused to make sense. It boiled with bitterness and hatred. Boris ignored Halkone''s pleas and crawled over to the hillside, peering down the cliff. Blood left a trail down where Elaine fell. It ended far below in a scene of death. He could not even recognize those bodies. ¡°What are you looking at?¡± Halkone asked behind him, ¡°You need to rest now. It''s over.¡± ¡°Over?¡± Boris asked with red eyes and quivering lips. ¡°Elaine''s dead!¡± he tried to yell but his heaving chest could barely spare a murmur. Halkone showed a face of confusion. Boris wanted to smash that useless face in. He wanted to¡ª ¡°Are you talking about me?¡± An unreal voice fell on his ears. Boris turned and gawked at the figure that appeared behind Halkone. Her face unharmed, her limbs intact, Elaine stood glowing in the sun. Boris grabbed Halkone''s legs frantically and crawled his way up to standing position. Then he limped his way towards the ghost of Elaine. ¡°You- you''re- you¡¯re alive,¡± Boris realized, probing her shimmering face with shaking hands. ¡°Oh my god!¡± Elaine exclaimed at him, ¡°What happened to¡ª Boris did not let Elaine finish. He hugged her with all the strength he could muster, squeezing the air out of her lungs. ¡°Don''t- don''t ever do this again,¡± he stuttered, clasping her tighter. ¡°Just- don¡¯t.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª ¡°Quiet,¡± Boris hissed. ¡°You damned- gave me- a heart attack. I never- never- want to see somebody fall to death again.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Elaine answered with a difficult smile, stroking his back. She started to speak but Boris did not hear her. She started to speak but Boris did not hear her. His muscles went queasy with pain and his heart whimpered in surrender. The wounds on his body began to burn. Pain started to make sense again. His mind fell silent. His will subsided. For the first time in his life, Boris fell asleep while still standing. ______________________________________________________________________________ Some notes- 1- The collars don''t control the mind. They are more like a leash and a treat. They can provoke animals or calm them (forcefully). Except that controlling them inside a battle is very difficult. (and requires tamers, who i this case were holding the more dangerous wyverns.) So you provoke a horde and just unleash it upon your enemy. Hope that helps. Oh, Scythians invented them. 2- Boris cannot focus his will. So it affects everything, he can''t just target the enemy but he can reduce the area of effect (as he did with the wyvern) 3- If someone use his will to provoke an enemy it will respond in kind. But Boris has done this before (with the inn customers and Halberds) yet they did not come back to him. Why? One, because he hid his will inside immediately afterwards. Two, because of Elaine/ 4- If you have been reading intently, you will notice that both enemies and allies get attracted towards Elaine. That is not because of her beauty, it is because of her will. Elaine''s will has an inherent tendency of pulling in, Diana''s will has an inherent tendency of being sharp, threatening. But Boris has a will that seems inherently blank. (Remember? Ocean of silence. Full but empty.) It is both puzzling and frightening because of just that. 5- I remember a reader (Lord Phrozen?) commenting that Boris used a mix of huge will and little mana to strengthen himself. It was genius thought but I denied it. That''s because it is exactly what the Scythians use (and call augmentation). Boris literally strains his muscles for strength. It is powerful (not as much as a scythian''s) but also quite dangerous. I wouldn''t do it if I were him. 6- This brings me the last issue of contention that I have with my own plot. Why didn''t the cult launch a full blown assault on the caravan while it was still traveling? And why didn''t the cult use horses? For the first question, it''s because the cult wasn''t really sure where the caravan was. It was only after the caravan tripped a few (previously placed) wards that they came to know and at that point they let the first wave of monsters chase after the caravan while the caravan escaped. Also, they needed the elf alive so they were more careful. For the second question, please make up some BS reason because I am not rewriting this scene with horses included! Just pretend I tricked you. Wait, they''re on uneven hills with trees to hinder cavalry, maybe that''s good enough reason? Any more doubts? ___________________________________________________________________________________ SOME OTHER FACTS: Goblins, grunts and orcs are all different life-stages the same being, like child, adolescent and adult (respectively) Goblins have a greenish tinge to their blood and their skin becomes bright green in the sunlight for photosynthesis. (They are walking plants!) They are strictly herbivorous or eat the soil and can survive in very poor conditions. Grunts on the other hand, develop a sudden appetite for flesh and are really dangerous (especially since they look just like goblins but hunt like orcs and eat a lot). Orcs are full-grown ones and they can barely use photosynthesis. Their skin is more grey than green in sunlight. ___________________________________________________________________ Spoiler : I will now enter a long rant where I deal with some of the issues I have heard about my fiction. If you don''t want to read, skip now. You might only want to read if you want a vague idea about the story and my plans. RANT START- 1- YOUR CHARACTERS ARE STEREOTYPES Yes and No. This is the most frequent and the most unfair criticism I get. From the tip of my tongue I can give you two reasons. a) If you have sense you would have noticed something in the prologue part 2 - REPEATING THE CLICHE. I wanted to start this story with a cliched beginning. I wanted to stereotype it and make fun of it intially. So I set the initial chapters exactly like that. IT WAS MEANT AS A PARODY. Elaine- pretty priestess with a harsh tongue and quick to violence Violet- tsundere loli mage King- arrogant and snobbish Arthur- pretty boy with enmity Ray- ikemen with girls And BECAUSE I CAN''T SUDDENLY CHANGE ALL SERIOUS I GRADUALLY CHANGED IT OVER THE COURSE OF 4-5 CHAPTERS. IF YOU CAN''T LOOK AHEAD OF THAT YOU DON''T LIKE SLOW STORIES. So don''t read it. b) A problem with introducing many characters is that before I can get you to relate to them I must get you to remember them. This is easily done using stereotypes. You remember them and I can later change them. Now let''s look at that again. Is Elaine a priestess? No. She can''t even heal. Is she violent? Not really, she has a sweet-sore spot for Boris. See? Stereotypes can be broken. Gradually. Also see tvtropes.org for understanding. I am not writing a thesis. I am writing a story. 2- BORIS IS A PUSHOVER
Quote:Author did not explicitly state that the MC wouldn¡¯t have human emotions.
plural. Boris is shy, introverted at times. He is specially so in the beginning. You want him to slap Elaine across the face in a world he just came to? Knowing that Elaine is important? He is teasing her and he will get some punishment in return. It is comic relief + cliche. Why did he slap the prince? Because he has a trauma about his dead sister! Boris is no pushover. He is developing. He is weak and strong at the same time. He is not 1-d or 2-d. I may have yet to show all the aspects of his thought but I think he is a lot better. Don''t like him? Say it. Frankly that you don''t like weak, slow developing characters. 3- STORY IS SLOW There''s a warning on title page. Read it. 4- STORY IS STILL SLOW No. The story is progressing. Boris has a slow progress because a lot is happening in comparison to his growth. This is not a story about Boris. It is a story about this world. 5- YOUR STORY IS DARK BUT YOUR NARRATION IS NOT. SAME FOR YOUR CHARACTERS. Correct. I agree with tivanenk. But I can''t change it. This story is essentially dark. It is about some very, very wrong things that have been done over the years. Things that need to be undone. Urgently. Boris is thus "not a hero" but something borne out of necessity. If I write it as dark as it is, I will not like writing it. You will not like reading it. I don''t want to lose a precious few readers I have left. 6- YOUR SENTENCE TRANSITION IS CHOPPY. PARAGRAPHS CHANGE ABRUPTLY. COMMAS ARE SOMETIMES WEIRDLY PLACED. Correct. I am trying to change this. Why are paragraphs changing abruptly, When reading a few fics on this site, I came to realize nobody likes reading large paras (not even me). I can read them in a book. But not on this site. So I sometimes split paras to help read easier but the transition becomes abrupt/weird. Again, I am trying to change this. 7- YOUR STORY IS UNORIGINAL You haven''t even seen 1/10th of what I want to show. I have not even reached half of the first volume. When this ends, if this ends, then we will see. RANT END- I don''t want to post a counter-review. That is not my problem. I want reviews and ratings from readers who have actually read the story far enough. Ironically, it is the opposite. So I am posting a poll.. Do you want me to stop writing? If not, then I will hopefully continue writing at least until the ratings dip to 3/5. At which point I am afraid, I will stop posting this because either this story is really bad and I need to change it or this is just not the right place to post the story. I would also request a review but I want it from people who have actually read (and commented on it.) People who want it to improve and not those who want it to end. I know enough of them, Don''t get me wrong I do want my story to improve and I am listening ( right toobadbro?). There are like six-seven more stories I want to write so I do need to improve. But well, would it hurt to be honest and civil about it? I know my fic has issues. Like? 1- ''ly'' adverbs are sometimes over used. Show don''t tell for expressions. ("bitter smile, proud face, silly voice- these are not very good) 2- the descriptions needs to be more immersive, subtle, interactive and less like a painting 3- the heroes haven''t been characterized well enough 4- there are places where the story flow breaks and writing quality suffers etc.etc. If you''re going to leave a -ve review, please leave real, semi-objective issues more. Suggest some cure. And people, please leave some comments. Thanks. PS: I actually had to research a hill''s height before writing this. Thankfully, the maximum height is like 610m/2000ft. So people can fall to death safely from that height. _______________________________________________________________ SS: A vengeance unfulfilled I Alright, here''s the surprise I promised few chapters ago. I think this is as good a time as any to release it. Special thanks to j0nn0 and AMP for commenting and to people who have voted no in the previous chapter. The poll is, of course, still open. This story is dark, gritty and somewhat vulgar. It should give you and idea of how the fic would turn out if I wrote it dark.It is set in Sturmhelm, the country of Scythians. That should give you some idea about the scythians too. Eventually, I hope, this story will tie in to the main story. ______________________________________________________________ A vengeance unfulfilled I Felgast stronghold glittered like a gem in the daylight that day. The city walls hung with banners and tapestries, manned by storm troopers that marched haughtily along the ramparts and paraded the golden emblems upon their red armor. They basked in warm ceremonial fires under pillars and pedestals that extended far and wide. The flames crackled jubilantly, tearing firewood and scarring gladstones. Magic worked its way through these, and glyphs spun a golden dazzle in the air, fed by the very gladstones they inhabited. It was a dazzle that caught greedy eyes and blinded honest ones. People flocked in merriment to the roads and passages that flowed with minstrels and bards, like serpents charmed by pipers. Their eyes dazzled deliriously from the magnificence around them. It was a dazzle that glorified the light and hid the darkness. These men couldn''t notice me in a hundred years, for I was a part of that darkness they ignored and insulted. I was the grime below their feet and the beggar below their knees. I stood in their midst but they would not deign to look upon me. How far the Thaal had fallen that they could not look below themselves. ¡°And by the mighty blade of Jzeth, forged of the dragon''s flames, So dulled the sun lost its might, and Thaal had made acclaim.¡± I caught those ironic lyrics with a bitterness, noticing a bard in gaudy cape wink at me as he lowered his cap just to his right. That bastard Krodell always had a way with disguises that made him even more infuriating. I slipped towards him slowly as my muddied boots squelched in disdain, and my dirty, rugged shawl brushed against the throng in tugs and thrusts. ¡°A coin for the needy,¡± I asked Krodell in thick, fake accent that reeked of hypocrisy. As my lips parted in a hideous display of hungry teeth that would have sent a grown bear whimpering, I formed the signs of query from my outstretched hand. ¡°Mercy upon you brother,¡± Krodell said as he dropped a copper sildem into my hand. ¡°The Legion''s here too,¡± he warned in a faint, cruel whisper, ¡°Don''t mess this up boy.¡± He didn''t need to. I was prepared to do my part even if the Emperor himself had come to Felgast. ¡°The Divine bless you,¡± I told him and my long fingers formed a sign for agreement. Then I bowed in a sycophancy that beggars often practiced only to receive a kick from someone. ¡°Shoo, shoo, wretch,¡± a guard said with a snigger as he watched me fall over limply on the road. ¡°This is no place to pester gents.¡± ¡°Mercy,¡± I begged in the same nauseating accent and scurried away from Krodell. I noticed the guard apologize politely to Krodell while Krodell winked with a sickening smile, then voiced a few silent words at me. I knew them without needing to hear him. Clothes make a man. As I merged once again with the ignorant crowd of Scythians, I pulled my spirit in. It made me seem even more insignificant and dull. Unlike most Scythians who could only augment a single faculty at once, I could simultaneously augment strength, speed and senses, and even limit their effect to a single part of my body. Among those I knew, very few could do so. And even they could not do what I was doing. Krodell thought I could augment stealth. A dumb guess. I actually reversed augmentation, making myself appear feeble and spiritless to draw away attention. In another life, all this would have made me a great stormtrooper. In this one it made me a rotten assassin. Scum of the world. I did not mind. I did not live for honor, wealth or prestige. I lived for vengeance. And I would gladly die for it. I slipped between the stalls and shops until I finally neared the podium. It was a platform raised a dozen feet or so above the ground, with six sets of stairs leading up to it and eight pillars surrounding it. In the center, sculpted out of red stone, stood a pedestal engraved with the symbol of the Stormtroops. A shield with wings and a star within. It was nicked in a corner, where an old blood stain had yet to leave it. I knew this place better than I knew myself. I knew the number of strides it took to cover it, I knew the number of steps on each stair, I knew the texture of its surface and the smell of its bricks. This was the place where Jzeth Un''Thaal laid the foundation of Felgast. Where every Stormlord took his oath to the Emperor of Sturmhelm. The place where my father died. In his days, Jzeth had made offerings to the poor here. Now it was decorated with carpets and tapestries. And these ignorant bastards were celebrating another century of Jzeth''s majesty at the very place where Jzeth''s own had bled. Soon, I would remind them of that. I would kill the Stormlord here. With a guttural bellow of horns that sounded thrice, the earth shook and drums resounded. People raised giddy cheers towards the ostentatious procession that came into view. The stormtroopers marched in attention and filed themselves into solid formations that parted the crowd and corralled it. ¡°Silence all! Let silence be in honor!¡± the crier howled from the podium. Two large Gremorian wyverns came into view, decorated to hide the ugly collars at their necks and marching stiffly on the ground, as if their wings had been clipped. The Stormlord sat atop the second one. Rumor was it that wyverns loved the new Stormlord. I''d certainly see if they loved his corpse more. ¡°All hail the first above stormtroopers, Stormlord Gromdail Drasden, ruler above wyverns!¡± I felt instinctively for my weapons and ran the plan through my head over and over again. My fingers slipped under my patched up tunic and through the cuirass beneath it, till they could touch the blades and needles concealed within. I had an assortment of smuggled dwarven weapons that would have made the border patrol vomit blood. I counted eleven throwing knives, six stilettos and two dirks, along with a halfsword and two dozen needles, each in carefully wrapped sheaths, ready to draw blood. A map of the city played constantly inside my head, depicting the routes of both the stormtroopers and the city watch. The guild itself had planted some men within the city watch but they couldn''t infiltrate the stormtroopers. With reason. All stormtroopers had taken an oath upon the Word. They would never betray. And they were the biggest obstacle here. Their dreadful stares scanned the crowd methodically. I saw them on the ground ahead and the walls high above, and the watchtowers in between. I breathed calmly, keeping my composure despite it all. I knew where each bow of theirs aimed, where their blades pointed, and where their shields faltered. I had waited a decade and more for this. I would not fail. I could not fail. At about forty feet from the podium, I stood the closest I could without drawing attention, and kept a keen eye around. The guild''s helpers were present at every corner. Krodell was here. So were many of my cronies. They were each a part of the plan. I, was the inevitable conclusion. ¡°All hail the sons of Jzeth!¡± the crier roared. I sniggered. The sons of Jzeth did not hide behind stormtroopers, they stood before them. With another three bellows of the horn, the guests finally ascended the stage. ¡°Lord Logurd Riftale the Third, honourable Lord over Felgast holds.¡± Matching his name, a large, heavy scythian lumbered up with his guards, and claps obeyed his twisted smile. His two dorky sons, Rolseud and Friarborg, followed their own flowery descriptions up the stage to stand beside him. His scheming vixen of a wife Dwena followed in her long, sleazy gown that licked the carpet like a dog''s salivating tongue. ¡°Lord Yorden Ulir, secretary to Lord over Felgast, and Lord over Treasury, honor to his name.¡± The pig Yorden walked up in stubby, greedy steps, his fat lumps swinging through his gaudy robes. I wondered how many cuts I''d have to make if I needed to kill him, and if his fat would fetch more prize than his life. After him was Grisalva, the head of merchants in the city. He owned over half the mills among many other commodities. He had clashed with both Gromdail and Logurd in past by resisting their control. Perhaps more out of pride than honor. One of these treacherous scumbags had probably commissioned the guild for assassinating the Stormlord, and I could not tell from the look on their slimy faces which one. Nor did I care. ¡°Hail Gromdail Drasden, sixty fifth Stormlord of Sturmhelm, first above stormtroopers and ruler above wyverns, sworn to the Emperor of Sturmhelm, highest of honor to his name, honored be his name.¡± I could barely contain my thirst as Gromdail descended from his seat on one of the wyverns and walked up. There were six personal stormtroopers stationed around him. Even after years, I recognized that blond hair and those muck brown eyes, and that crooked nose. The way he carried himself looked as if the very world should bow to him, prostrate in deification. Excitement throbbed through my heart in pulses. I would have his life under my blade. I would see his face turn pale and his lips shudder as I reaped him. I would see him whimper as he bled, if only momentarily. I had sworn I would. A scythian never betrayed his word. And no matter how low, I was still a scythian. ¡°Hail Sinaya Vey Emberdine, second princess of Sturmhelm, the Flower of Iskidra, blessed be her grace.¡± I looked as the Empire''s princess emerged from her carriage, two Imperial guards on each side, and walked up in precise, faked elegance. Her red hair was braided into three pigtails in old tradition, and a coronet stood upon her pretentious face. The Stormlord offered her help and kissed her gloved hand in a vulgar display of affection. Raucous cheers erupted around me but I kept watching the Stormlord, knowing full well the blush upon the princess''s face. That wench would find her prize dead before she found her legs spread. When everyone had settled down, the ceremony began and Gromdail walked forward. I followed Krodell''s signal to step ahead till I was just in range. At this distance, I could throw a knife through Gromdail''s forehead, if not for the stormtroopers in between. ¡°Thaals of Sturmhelm! Today, is an auspicious day,¡± Gromdail declared loudly. ¡°It is the day when Jzeth Un''Thaal laid the foundation of Felgast. It is the day when he won the Emperor''s favor. It is also the day he established the Stormtroops name. But more than that, it is the day where he gave us something he considered most precious.¡± The Stormlord drew his gilded sword and it sparkled with corrupt gems. He pointed it towards the stony pedestal in the centre. ¡°It is the day he gave us his brotherhood,¡± he spoke in his deep misleading tone. I clenched my teeth and gripped a knife. Krodell stilled me with one hand, then pointed a few signals that evoked a response within a crowd. A slight unrest grew to one side and stormtroopers marched in to quieten it. I advanced further, to the edge of the audience now. ¡°Today we do not stand here as sixty two warring tribes of Thaal. Today we stand here as Un''Thaal,¡± the Stormlord continued like a demagogue. ¡°We stand as one. As the brotherhood of Thaal. And we won''t fall to any might in the world!¡± He raised his sword high, drawing in cheers and accolades. I took a step just outside the edge, brushing a stormtrooper who was ready to push me back, and paused as a stone flew at Gromdail. Krodell winked. ¡°Keep your petty words to yourself,¡± an old man cried behind me. His stone hit invisible air and faltered. There was a mage here I realized, someone well versed with barrier spells. Not a scythian. Was it the Legion? I had heard it employed humans in good numbers. ¡°You are no Thaal you rascal,¡± the old man roared as I dug my eyes across the podium. I re-counted the six stormtroopers around the Stormlord, four Imperial guards for the princess and ten other personal guards among the nobility. Some others were probably hiding behind the podium. But none of them were mages by my knowledge. Where was the mage? Egrall who commanded the city watch, directed some guards at the old man, and they dragged him to jail while he continued to cry. ¡°Fools, do you not see he is a Vega! Fools!¡± I knew when I heard it that the old man would not live. He may have been insane in most eyes but he was a threat in others. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Egrall climbed the podium to exchange a few words with the Stormlord. The latter nodded understandingly and Egrall took a position behind the Stormlord now, among the chosen few, with a smile. The stormtrooper pushed me back and the ceremony continued unheeded. I had lost the first chance. But I had two more. Servants appeared on the podium, carrying bowls and trays laden with delicacies. Fruits and foods of all kinds. Once in a decade, in fond mockery of Jzeth, the nobility would serve these treats to the poor. It made the nobility magnanimous and left the beggars craving till death, until another decade came with false hopes for new beggars. I joined the horde of eager vagrants pushing over each other as they tried to rush in like hyenas, only to be restrained by the stormtroopers. I felt the pokes of hilts and boots guiding my route towards the podium, and proceeded hungrily myself. When I could, I glanced and signaled Krodell and others. This was the closest I would get to the Stormlord, and if this failed we would have to resort to drastic violence, which in this case involved hysteria and mass murder. Krodell signaled back a warning and a choice. I chose to kill. He accepted. Upon the stage, Yorden the pig picked up a bunch of turgid grapes for all to see and dropped it in a bowl with grandeur. The Stormlord accepted the bowl and plucked a few of those grapes for himself. He would share the rest with beggars in old Jzeth tradition. I held my disgust. Jzeth did not condescend filthy leftovers for the poor. He ate with the poor, among them, in the same earthen plates and bowls. Grisalva the merchant added some berries to the mix and again, Gromdail ate a few. I would eat my dirty boots before I ate his leftovers. And chew them till the last morsel of their soles. A few guards moved in the periphery of my vision, bribed ones. I shifted closer to the podium, keeping my eyes on each stormtrooper nearby and still searching for the mage. Logurd and his dorky spawns proceeded to add oranges and sugary treats to the bowl, and his vixen added a goblet of wine, true to her toxic nature. Gromdail tasted them and extended the bowl towards the princess. The wench eagerly removed her gloves and tried to grab something to add but an Imperial guard caught her hand and shook his head. He picked up a piece of steak and placed it into the bowl in her stead. Egrall dropped something into the bowl last. I could not notice it, I was too busy looking for gaps to exploit. His bowl filled, the Stormlord started to descend the stairs towards me. Six stormtroopers were by his side and his servants followed behind with filled trays and bowls. My eyes met his. Both of us smiled, he in satisfaction, I in delight. He descended between disciplined files of stormtroopers that kept the beggars at bay. And I slipped through the chaotic mass of beggars till he was near. So very near. I breathed giddily, savagely. Both my hands went to my weapons. ¡°Fire!¡± A guard cried as a watchtower exploded, then another, and both fell in blazing heaps of rubble around the crowd. That was my signal. I drew my spirit out, augmenting speed. The stormtrooper to my left collapsed before he could let out another word. I killed two more to give the beggars a gap and they wrested full force through it towards the food-laden trays, sending alarm through the stormtroopers. ¡°File up! Don''t let anyone advance!¡± Someone was screaming orders. The crowd went from joy to frenzy in a moment as the guards began to fall here and there and the fire caught the stalls in confusion. I augmented sight and hearing. Spirit surged through my eyes and ears in a buzzing spark and hastened my senses. Logurd''s wife screamed for help far away and the princess shouted orders at the Imperial guards. Arrows dove into the horde of beggars that continued to push at the stormtroopers, and swords pilfered their guts. I advanced unaffected. ¡°Do not falter!¡± The orders came. The Stormtroopers held and pushed. I knew more were coming. The city guards were done for though, and it took all of Egrall''s might to keep a few of them organized. I felled stormtroopers here and there, but against their numbers I would lose. I was not here to confront an army, I was here to kill its leader. A spark hastened my limbs as I augmented speed further and rushed in a blur through the throng. Behind me, my cronies had joined the fray. Some of the guards rebelled against the stormtroopers, sending a new wave of chaos. Cries changed to howls of agony and rage. I pushed another beggar at a stormtrooper and finally reached the Stormlord. On his face, I could see the shock of my appearance and it paled his lips as he receded. Two of his six personal stormtroopers came at once, spears pointed my way. I heard the bowmen change their target as they called at my back. I heard the Imperial guards come out in droves to surround the princess while I evaded the spear''s thrust and dug a knife into the wielder''s neck. ¡°Keep him down!¡± ¡°Break him!¡± They roared. I augmented every faculty I could, and sprung like a lion into a herd of prey. An arrow went over my bent shoulder as I slipped beneath the next spear. My first stiletto pierced the attacker''s knee and I kicked it in, against his augmented muscles, till he groaned and tried to wave his spear my way. By that time I was steps ahead of him, my back facing his. A backhanded blow left my stiletto in his neck before he could turn. And as he fell, I held him up as a shield for the volley of arrows that traced my position. Then I ran at the still retreating Stormlord, blood-thirst screaming madly inside my brain. I augmented myself further and the next volley of arrows felt slow, desperate. I plucked them like branches out of air and dug them into two other guards that had neared me. With their crumbling bodies as a footstool, I plunged above the next two stormtroopers and dived for the Stormlord. He was even paler now. I smiled but hit the air full force and crashed. That was a barrier spell. The two stormtroopers behind the Stormlord each held a staff in the air, nasty human mages parading in stormtrooper armor. Were they with the Legion? Before I could slay them, a sword dug my back ruthlessly and I grimaced, pulling myself out and away. The stormtroopers I had passed had gained on me, and surrounded the Stormlord again. They looked at me in a mix of daze and derision. Blood wet my cuirass and blades, and I dodged the next few thrusts and slashes in caution. ¡°Spineless mongrels,¡± I snarled. A greater snarl erupted behind my back. One which shook the earth and raised pure horror among the surroundings. With another burst of fire and a deafening roar, the wyverns behind me leapt ferociously into the air. Helheim had used his last resort. It was do or die now. Splinters and debris flew madly into the air. And flames fell like rain all around. Curses upon this wretched land. The mages at the back wasted their attention at the wyverns. I darted full force, taking the brunt of a stormtrooper''s shield with my augmented strength and kicked it to launch into the air again. This time however, I fell right behind the mages with a full spin in the air. They hastily raised a spell over their torso and I swept their legs under them. The first mage fell like a stiff log, while his spell faltered, and found my dagger in his throat before he could find words on his tongue. I parted half his neck in a terrifying spurt of blood and hurled him into the other mage with force. They flew disastrously and ended in a heap of burning rubble. Without their magic, humans were easy to kill. Their augmentation was a pale imitation of ours, and their bodies were weaker. Louder screams grew into the air. Most of the stormtroopers were now busy with two crazy wyverns that swept up and down through the air, picking up prey wantonly among the chaos. Any who could afford to attend me were still far and their arrows were no longer a threat through the thick cloud of smoke that had begun to form. I smelled the burning flames as they ate through the ugliness around me and tasted blood on my lips. Some bastard had gotten a hit on my face in this confusion, or was it the barrier I hit? When I faced the Stormlord again, the nobles behind me were shrieking melodiously and the Imperial guards were ready to safely retreat with the princess who was bawling. ¡°Do you remember me, Gromdail?¡± I asked in a sneer of my bloody lips. He was too horrified to form a reply. The two remaining stormtroopers at his side were horrified too. ¡°I guess you do,¡± I told him softly as I darted yet again. Two swords traced slow arcs in the air and I slipped between them, feeling pain course through my wounded back. A slash cut my clothes open and drew blood from my flank. My augmentation was starting to fade. I had pushed it too far. But I had time. I stabbed a stiletto into the left swordsman''s shoulder, missing his neck narrowly, and forced him into the other, dragging them both towards the Stormlord in frenzy. The one at back disengaged swiftly and stepped aside to leave a gap. There I spun, my hands gripping the neck I had missed, and wrenching it broken with a satisfying crack. I let the stormtrooper fall before his brother-in-arms, and dragged my stiletto out in a show of blood. ¡°My Lord, run!¡± the last stormtrooper warned the Stormlord bravely and turned to face his death. His shield was raised ahead of the Stormlord but his eyes were dead in surrender. One of the wyverns leapt over us that moment and I dodged while the stormtrooper fell to the claws of fate. Now it was just me and the Stormlord. I did not wait. The other stormtroopers would be here very soon. ¡°My family sends its regards,¡± I growled bitterly before leaping at him with my halfsword drawn, ready to part his head and hurl it into the crowd. The Stormlord formed words on his lips that I recognized with a leer. He did not run or even defend himself, and an astonishing shower of blood greeted my face immediately. My eyes went blind with red and I stumbled over awkwardly. The augmentation had worn off. ¡°Get him!¡± Somebody roared as I wrestled with the Stormlord''s corpse. He was dead, without a doubt. I threw his flaccid corpse away, and it rolled over ominously, leaving trail of blood, froth and vomit. Then I ran madly. My senses went numb. I killed three other stormtroopers before a wayward arrow caught my foot square and bloody. I tottered, unable to purge the bitterness in my gut. I could have escaped maybe. But I didn''t have my calm anymore. I was seething and simmering. I was in shock greater than the Stormlord himself. ¡°Don''t let him escape!¡± ¡°Find him!¡± They cried. Bastards. Scumbags. Traitors. A shield bashed me into the ground just as I tried to exit the podium and more stormtroopers rushed at me. I cried and howled and struggled in a daze. It was miserable. Why did he die? Why did they deny me my right? Why not give me a chance at all? I screamed and blabbered, unable to contain the madness anymore. I think I killed another few before they got me. I was willing to die. To be executed. To be slaughtered. But not like this. Never like this. I had lived my life for vengeance. I had dreamt it. Craved it. Now I was empty like a cracked vessel, leaked out and abandoned. The Stormlord was dead. My blade hadn''t even nicked his skin. ____________________________________________________________________ Okay, I am going to stress a few things because sometimes people miss them. 1- How far the Thaal had fallen that they could not look below themselves. Quite possibly the most powerful sentence in this story. Think upon it. And give me a cookie. 2- "...like serpents charmed by pipers" Double meaning. a) people blindly following after songs/attractions b) if you have read about snakecharmers you will know that the song is distraction, the snakes are deaf and guided by the taps of their foot. Therefore while it might appear that people are following after the song, they are actually dancing to the foots of authorities. 3- "The sons of Jzeth did not hide behind stormtroopers, they stood before them." Double meaning again. a) the sons of Jzeth are brave leaders that do not hide in fear behind protection b) the really worthy sons of Jzeth are in the crowd before the stormtroopers not among the nobility behind them. _ How was that? This is actually good in itself but I plan to write a few more chaps in sequel. Thanks for reading. ^^ _ 18. Decisions V - The Song of the Dead Well alright, the last update that I promised. Hope you people really like it. I do. I had more fun writing this part compared to the previous one because it depicts a mental conflict. Happy reading. ________________________________________________________ Decisions V - A Song of the Dead Upon this night so promising, Forsooth, I hear the dead men sing. They say the dead men tell no tales; that they have no tales to tell¡ª That dreams don¡¯t dwell in silent wails, nor truths untold, nor secrets held. Say, what tidings do they bring? Forsooth, I hear the dead men sing, Upon this night so promising~ - The Deadman''s Eulogy General Cleya and her troops arrived to find their work done. Broken conifers stood at awkward angles among the burnt remains of vegetation. A smoky smell smeared the scene of destruction with overcooked grief. Cleya tasted death on her lips and frowned. She admired a good slaughter. It showed the fragility of life. Reflected the impermanence of the world. Inspired growth and erased weakness. But she did not like losing to her own schemes. ¡°There¡¯s very few of them left up there,¡± Captain Brom informed Cleya. ¡°Should we take the credit for this?¡± That was his way of asking if they should eliminate the witnesses, leaving no one to contest their claim. A smart move. Cleya would have considered that too, if not for Elaine¡¯s presence. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that,¡± a sharp, stilling voice answered. Brom froze and Cleya turned in surprise. A hellhound sauntered their way, its two heads proud and fearless. The same wretched beast the previous gatekeeper had allowed escape. Cleya found someone familiar riding upon it. ¡°What is an elf doing here?¡± she asked with venomous eyes. ¡°The same reason as yours,¡± Diana answered, her face calm and her eyes keen, ¡°Admittedly though, I was more capable and less conniving about it.¡± Brom broke out of his trance and drew his blade, prompting the rest of the Halberds to do the same. The hellhound growled in displeasure, a fire flickering up its tails. Diana calmed it with a brush of her hand and looked down at the Halberds with a provocative smile. ¡°You know,¡± she said, ¡°I would not mind going at it. I must warn you though. I have not been in this bad a mood for a long time. Most of you will not live to regret it, and those who do, will wish otherwise.¡± ¡°Stop,¡± Cleya ordered Brom and the rest of her troops. ¡°Sheath your weapons.¡± A dumbfounded Brom obeyed. ¡°You have your father¡¯s wits, child of Yeralds,¡± Diana applauded, stroking her fingers through the hellhound¡¯s fur. The beast crooned while Cleya grit her teeth in defiance. ¡°Don¡¯t think you have won just yet, Silver¡¯s Bow,¡± Cleya threatened. ¡°No I won¡¯t. Now that you have demonstrated a speck of understanding inside that vicious head, I am willing to make you an offer.¡± ¡°Speak.¡± ¡°Leave some of your horses here and¡ª ¡°Are you threatening us?¡± Brom interrupted with a solid voice, feigning bravery. His legs could barely move but he still held control over his arms. ¡°Keep shut. I am not talking to you,¡± Diana ordered. Cleya nodded and Brom retreated. ¡°Well, daughter of Yeralds,¡± Diana turned her sight back at Cleya, ¡°if you do as I say, I will tell you about the Cult¡¯s hideout. They are all dead, I¡¯m afraid, but I¡¯ll let you take all credit for exterminating them.¡± ¡°For a few horses?¡± Cleya enquired. ¡°Those and a bit of your supplies, little things really.¡± ¡°What are you after?¡± Diana scoffed at Cleya¡¯s poor attempt to gauge her. Perhaps she was not all Diana expected her to be. Her father had been a sharper one. ¡°I have already acquired what I was after,¡± Diana revealed, ¡°I am exchanging the surplus with you.¡± Cleya spent a moment in contemplation. She sized her army and calculated the number of dead lying on the hill. The actual hideout should have had a lot more. It was a good deal. ¡°¡­.We will take it,¡± she replied. ¡°And withdraw?¡± Diana added. ¡°Yes,¡± Cleya confirmed. ¡°Good. A word of advice, if you¡¯re going to claim the responsibility for all that, you should refrain from mentioning others involved.¡± ¡°I did not meet you here. I did not see any caravan pass by. Is that enough?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± With the deal struck, Cleya ordered the Halberds to arrange for Diana¡¯s demands while discussing the Cult¡¯s hideout with her. In a matter of minutes, Diana walked away with horses loaded with supplies. She took them up the hill where the last vestiges of the caravan remained. They would need it if they wanted to proceed. It was their luck that Boris disturbed the Needlewoods. Diana caught on to that disturbance and traced it back. It didn¡¯t taken her long to figure out what had happened. The ambitions of Halberds added to her worries a little. But Diana had greater troubles to worry about. Something terrible was beginning to stir, she could sense. She needed to know who set such malevolence in motion. And what they expected to gain from it¡­ With Diana gone, captain Brom turned to his general in curiosity. The elf may have been strong but he could not believe that general Cleya stepped down. ¡°Why did we surrender to her threats?¡± he asked. Cleya eyed his ambition with pity. ¡°We don¡¯t need to fight a hellish monster just for a little reward, Brom.¡± Brom felt confused. She allowed the elf freedom just because of a hellhound? Those ludicrous allegations of it coming out of the pits of hell were absolute rubbish. ¡°We could have killed the hellhound,¡± Brom suggested. Cleya laughed at his suggestion, bursting into hysterical fits while the Halberds looked at her in dismay and fear, ready to escape if she started killing them instead. ¡°Brom,¡± she said with a snort, ¡°The hellhound isn¡¯t the monster I was talking about.¡± ____________________________________________ Boris dragged the last corpse through the grass, feeling an icy touch upon his ankles while his feet trudged mechanically. A trail of blood lay in the dirt behind him, dripping down the blades of grass in thin, viscid droplets and soaking the ground with the stench of death. He bent a little low, in an effort to support his burden, and walked towards the pile of corpses. Once there, he hefted the hands while Halkone hefted the legs and they swung the dead man, who had been Gabe just hours ago, hurling him into the pit with a thump. They piled their own dead with the cultists'' corpses and the bodies wrapped around each other in deathly horror. It felt unreal. A nauseous Boris covered his mouth as he recognized familiar faces mashed within that bloodied heap. People he talked to. People he killed. They all came together into one hideous monster. Like a chimera from hell. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Halkone asked, seeing his sweating face. ¡°Yeah,¡± Boris answered, hiding his fear. ¡°Did you take the coin and valuables?¡± Halkone enquired with the same voice. With a stiff nod, Boris held up a pouch and a sleek threaded necklace with a small ring, a memento perhaps. They were dirty red. Halkone took them, weighing the pouch and slipping the necklace into his pockets, then found Boris eyeing him with disgust. ¡°Don''t look at me like that boy,¡± he spoke roughly, ¡°The dead have no use for wealth. It only draws unwanted trouble if you bury them with gold.¡± Halkone received no response. Boris turned and hurried away, trying to erase the scene from his memory. Behind him, two mages worked to split the ground slowly and then clamp it back upon the corpses, providing a burial. ¡°Are you done?¡± a voice asked as soon as Boris emerged out of the grove of trees. Boris turned to see Diana observing him. He nodded sourly. The relief he felt on seeing her back had disappeared now. Diana ?had compelled him to haul the dead for hours, to look death and despair in the eye even after the victory, to face his own cruelty and that of his enemies. Even with his tired body and conflicted mind, Boris did just that. Now Boris hated her as much as he hated himself. ¡°Well then,¡± Diana said with a keen eye, ¡°come with me.¡± ¡°I would like to rest a bit more,¡± Boris protested, stifling a chill up his legs and swallowing his spit. He had barely slept enough. His wounds protested the effort he undertook with scorching pain. His left arm was barely usable, burnt and stabbed. The bandages did little to ease the pain. He needed rest. Even if it came with nightmares. ¡°You can rest afterwards, kid. There¡¯s a stream down west. You want to smell of blood when we reach the next stop?¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Boris relented and followed Diana to the stream. It was a shallow rivulet, clean and transparent. It followed a smooth curve between the hills to the south and perhaps ended in the larger plains Boris read about. Nimble fishes flaunted bright colors in the sunlight here and a few animals stood by their herds, drinking from the stream. Boris dipped his legs into the cold water and felt it soothe his pain. ¡°There¡¯s no one here now,¡± Diana spoke beside him. ¡°You should let it out.¡± ¡°Let what out?¡± Boris asked dryly. Diana frowned and plugged him in the gut without a warning. The sudden blow left Boris scrunched up and groaning beside the lake. ¡°Why did you¡ª Boris tried to complain but felt a terrible wave rise up his stomach. The unease worsened and he vomited, spilling all his meal in the stream and dirtying the water. He could not stop after that and continued to empty his insides. Tears streamed down his face as Boris gagged and retched, trying to expel it all. Disgust, hatred, guilt, and distress. He rinsed his mouth and puked some more. Then he plodded upstream and lay down in the shallows, letting the water wash him away. ¡°Feel better?¡± Diana asked a while after Boris settled. ¡°Yes,¡± Boris accepted. ¡°There are things we need to talk about,¡± Diana said, lying down beside him. ¡°I am listening.¡± Diana scooped a handful of water and let it spill through her fingers. ¡°There is bad news and worse news,¡± she said. Boris sighed, slapping the water with swinging legs and letting the stray droplets tingle his face. ¡°Let¡¯s begin with the bad part,¡± he decided. ¡°You almost died in Laur.¡± ¡°It was my bad,¡± Boris apologized. ¡°I had to use another blessing upon you just to keep you alive.¡± Boris squinted in thought. ¡°And you did not tell me, just like you did not mention Argyvael.¡± ¡°Argyvael is a buffoon.¡± ¡°But he did something to me,¡± Boris replied, ¡°It makes the birds come after me from time to time.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a small gift perhaps,¡± Diana replied. She fed her magic into the water and it rose in glinting currents, slithering around like a serpent in the air. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t really call it¡ª Boris tried to grasp one of the floating currents but they burst apart at his touch. ¡°Oh forget it,¡± he said bitterly, ¡°What was it you wanted to say?¡± ¡°That you have two blessings inside you, a blessing of growth and blessing of health and long life.¡± ¡°Thank you?¡± Boris did not understand how that constituted bad news. ¡°But it still hasn¡¯t changed you much. Your wounds are not healing any faster, your strength has not grown a lot, you are even feeling weak to the weather at times.¡± ¡°I am an inept, this is what happens,¡± Boris replied while jabbing the water for fishes. He caught none. ¡°The blessing of health and long life is different from the blessing of growth. It works fast, within weeks. For months, those who receive the blessing show a drastic healing capacity. Small wounds heal within minutes. Some have even regrown a finger or two. The blessing weakens with age and cannot be cast again.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Boris feigned interest while trying to feel for fishes using his will. Diana swept a delicate hand through the water and brought up a brilliant green fish, holding it just out of reach from Boris. As Boris sat up to grab that fish Diana threw it back into the water. ¡°If a blessing cannot heal your wounds now,¡± she continued with Boris now attentive, ¡°then sooner or later, there will be no magic that can heal you.¡± Boris shrugged nonchalantly. ¡°I am prepared for that. There is nothing wrong if my wounds heal normally. I would prefer that, in fact. Magic hurts my insides.¡± ¡°Then you need to act with good judgment. I heard you jumped up to a wyvern and crashed down with it. An innocent person was onboard. There were better ways to go about it, safer and surer. Were you prepared to break your bones when you did that? To kill all those around you while you crashed?¡± ¡°I was not thinking right at the time,¡± Boris averted his eyes. ¡°You were overexerting your will. It clouded your reasoning with blind hatred,¡± Diana clarified. ¡°Yeah, I realized. I will try to keep that in check.¡± ¡°If you go moonstruck Boris, I will kill you myself. I promise.¡± The last part Diana spoke with such certainty that Boris never doubted she would do so. It gave shock to his thoughts. ¡°¡­.Moonstruck? What¡¯s that?¡± Boris asked after a pause. Diana got up and looked him in the eye. ¡°Insane, murderous, violent,¡± she explained, ¡°It¡¯s what happens when you overuse your will, let your own emotions twist your mind. There¡¯s no cure.¡± ¡°I will keep that in mind.¡± Boris nodded and Diana swiped out another fish in a smooth motion. ¡°Think very hard upon it,¡± she said, handing the fish to Boris. ¡°This brings me to the worse news.¡± ¡°There¡¯s something worse than you killing me?¡± Boris asked, holding the flapping fish and trying to examine it. ¡°You will die soon,¡± Diana added in a plain, unaffected voice. It was Boris¡¯s turn to let the fish drop in water. He scratched his head as he watched the fish escape. ¡°Is that fortune telling?¡± he joked, ¡°No thanks, I don¡¯t believe that stuff.¡± ¡°I came to know that nobody has told you yet. So I will. An inept has a short lifespan.¡± ¡°How short?¡± Boris asked, apprehensive. He knew they hid things from him. They had no right to! ¡°Most die within months of being born. I have never heard of any live past twelve.¡± ¡°That¡¯s- but I am sixteen already.¡± A chord of grim realization struck Boris and a hasty denial formed inside his head. ¡®That can¡¯t be true,¡¯ he panicked, ¡®that¡¯s barely any time! I can¡¯t just die like that.¡¯ ¡°It hasn¡¯t even been a year since you became an inept,¡± Diana stated. ¡°Excuse me?¡± Boris replied with a bitter voice. ¡°You think I could use magic back in my world?¡± If this was what inepts were then he had been an inept all his life. And lived off it without any trouble. It was one thing to live without magic and another to die without it. Boris clawed his wounded hands into the riverbed in anger and tried to crush the stones there. It did not work. Nothing worked his way! ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Diana told him. Her voice held neither pity nor encouragement. Just the plain, harsh truth. ¡°¡­.How long do you think I have got?¡± Boris asked, looking down at his own reflection. ¡®I need to go back,¡¯ he reminded himself, ¡®I need to return soon! This isn¡¯t the place for me.¡¯ Ripples formed and died on the water surface. They distorted his image and turned it hideous. Boris saw his own face jeer at him and punched a hostile fist into the water. Splashes wet him with cold reality and rained upon his hopes. ¡°How long have I got Diana? Tell me truthfully!¡± he demanded. ¡°I¡¯d give you two,¡± Diana replied with the same calm, ¡°three if I was being optimistic, but I don¡¯t like being optimistic about this. Are you prepared to die like this?¡± ¡®What the hell is she asking!¡¯ Boris fumed. ¡®Am I prepared to die? I¡¯m sixteen for God¡¯s sake! You ask a sixteen year old to die because of bullshit?¡¯ Ripples formed inside his mind this time and spilled over. A small commotion occurred as the nearby herds scampered about. Diana did not even bat an eyelid, keeping her eyes sharp and her face expectant. ¡°No,¡± Boris replied in low, harsh whisper, struggling with his own will, ¡°Not at all.¡± ¡°Then you better put all your effort in finding a way back. Killing the demon lord is one.¡± Boris felt Diana cut through his anger as she said that. Her will spun around his own and sliced away every bit of hostility. His mind staggered in surprise then throbbed in defiance. And yet, no matter how much of rage he threw at her, she never flinched. In mere seconds, Diana clasped all around his mind and poked him into silence. In the end, his will surrendered and shrunk into silence. Diana smiled but said nothing. ¡°You make it sound like killing a rabbit,¡± Boris answered Diana¡¯s suggestion. He felt strange and light-headed but the anger receded into his mind.. ¡°Sound preparations, a good plan and a resolve to kill for necessity.¡± ¡°I would rather not,¡± Boris denied. He did give it some thought before. A lot of it in fact. It just did not sit right. ¡°There has to be a simpler, easier way than fighting armies of demons just to kill a guy who has nothing to do with this. Who I don¡¯t even know if he exists or where he is. And to do that within two years? No thanks.¡± He poked at the water and saw the ripples make fun of his pained face. A faint smile spilled out of his teeth. ¡°An easier way? Definitely not,¡± Diana refuted with a flick of her fingers. ¡°You would have to reverse or counter the entire summoning spell. You would have the same luck trying to go back in time.¡± Boris felt Diana¡¯s will creep across his mind but let her do so. She sliced through his confusion, his hesitation, his denial, his subsiding rage and then through his cradled confidence until she plunged right into the depths of that empty ocean inside. Could she see something here? For a moment, Boris thought he saw shock flicker across Diana¡¯s smooth eyebrows but then dismissed it. He felt Diana slink around and poke at an emotion he kept hidden. He pushed her out in embarrassment. ¡°Then I will reverse the summoning spell and go back in time if I have to. If it is a spell, it can be read. It can be understood. It can be altered,¡± Boris answered. His mind was working two ways right now and he was talking both within and without it. It felt strangely satisfying. ¡°Good luck chasing that dream,¡± said Diana. ¡°Then why did you take me with you?¡± Boris frowned and tried to corner her. Diana stared through his eyes and withdrew her will completely. ¡°Why does a farmer water barren fields? Why does a sailor wander stormy seas? Why does an army seek peace?¡± she asked. ¡°I am not good with riddles,¡± Boris replied while he debated whether or not to go after Diana¡¯s will in answer. ¡°Because they see hope beyond it,¡± said Diana, ¡°That is what I see in you. To be able to fight when powerless, to rise when broken, to struggle when defeated. To accept your worth and not glorify nor pity it. To seek without bias and act without fear. It is not power, intellect or luck. It is hope. That makes you special, different. Worthy. The day you lose that, you lose all your value in my eyes.¡± ¡°Wow,¡± Boris forgot the debate inside his mind and just let it go. He had not heard encouragement for quite a while. It felt good. His mind crooned a little and his will quivered pleasantly. ¡°That¡¯s all you got from it?¡± Diana asked, stupefied. ¡°No, but, that was¡­ inspiring.¡± Diana grimaced before speaking again. ¡°What I meant to say,¡± she said, lifting another fish and letting it jump out of her hands, ¡°is that I don¡¯t believe the summoning spell could be undone but I do believe that that if there is someone who can do that, it would be you. The rest depends on you. Do you believe in yourself? That you could find a way out without fighting the Infernal war?¡± Boris did not need to think of an answer. ¡°I must. I will.¡± He did not have options. Only compulsions. ¡®I need to do this,¡¯ he decided, ¡®there¡¯s no other way.¡¯ ¡°Then we will leave it at that,¡± Diana replied and lay back in the water. Boris only then realized that the water did not soak her clothes at all. She had had a spell working all along. Something fell upon his ears as he laid back with a smirk. Upon this night so promising, ...hear the winter sing ¡°What¡¯s that,¡± Boris asked. There was a tune hanging in the air. Faint but discernible. And memorable. ¡°Someone followed us?¡± Boris wondered as he tried to seep a little of his will across the water into the forest behind. He found nothing but animals. ¡­spells a gale, they say the snow has come to quell¡­ ¡°No,¡± Diana answered his curiosity, ¡°It¡¯s coming from the caravan.¡± Sweet dreams upon their silent wails¡­ ¡°That¡¯s too far,¡± Boris objected. A person would need a loudspeaker to do that. ¡®Or magic,¡¯ he realized. ¡­ sweet rest upon all fears held. ¡°It¡¯s a good song. A good song doesn¡¯t die so easily.¡± Say, what tidings does it bring? Oh grace, I hear the winter sing ¡°What?¡± Boris could not understand what Diana meant. Why would a good song last longer? It was just¡­ sound. A loud song on the other hand¡ª ¡°It will last for a while,¡± Diana added, listening with amusement, ¡°It¡¯s that girl you picked up. She has a good voice to match.¡± ¡°Thea? I never would have thought she could speak, let alone sing,¡± Boris remarked. Upon this night so promising~ ¡°It has become different though,¡± Diana added without paying him heed. Once again, she swept a thin current of water into the air and made it dance. The rhythm matched the tune. Diana examined her own magic and nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what happens when a song changes tongues,¡± she explained. ¡°You know this song?¡± Boris asked. ¡°The humans call it the winter¡¯s lullaby.¡± ¡°And the elves?¡± Boris added curiously, catching on the slight hesitation in her voice. ¡°We have a different version. We call it the Deadman¡¯s Eulogy. It¡¯s rarely sung.¡± ¡°No wonder,¡± Boris agreed. ¡°But it¡¯s beautiful nonetheless. Powerful too. It lives much longer,¡± Diana added. That made Boris more curious. ¡®How can a song live? Is this another one of her allegories?¡¯ ¡°Can I hear it?¡± he asked. ¡°No,¡± Diana answered without a shred of doubt. ¡°I expected that,¡± Boris regretted and turned his thoughts another way. ¡°There¡¯s something else I want to know. Do my friends know about this? That I am going to die soon?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think Durham has any plans to do that. It would reflect him in poor light and might even invite desertion.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good. I would like to keep it that way,¡± Boris decided. There was still some hesitation. Maybe they could help him. But Boris knew very well what path they would take. They would run straight into demon lands without thought or reason. He could see it ending very, very badly. He could see them die like idiots while he ended up much the same. They were a stopgap measure, not a preferred one. Especially with their changed mentality. ¡°Then you should talk to Elaine,¡± Diana advised, ¡°Tell her not to let it spill because she is the one most likely to do so.¡± ¡°¡­.¡± ¡°Why are you blushing?¡± Diana looked curiously while Boris paused in memory. ¡°No, don¡¯t tell me! Really? Really?¡± she asked. Now she knew what part of his mind he wanted to hide. For someone treading close to death, that should have been absurd. And inconceivable. ¡°Wh- I can¡¯t help what I can¡¯t help,¡± Boris made a flimsy retort with a wave of his hand. ¡°I take my words back. You are hopeless. And insane.¡± _____________________________________________ Boris clung to the ground in cover, desperate to shield himself from the rubble that flew around him like a swarm of locusts, intent on devastating everything. The ground rumbled and ached, shivering like a sickly child to its mother''s rage. It was a rage that filled the air whole, froze it over and coagulated it. Boris choked and shuddered, wet his pants his despair. They were all mere flecks before that rage. Flecks of coal that would burn to nothingness before they could kindle a flame. Boris was no different. If there was a difference, it would be that he was still crouching while everyone else seemed to crawl. Boris watched in utter horror and desperation. How could he let this happen? How could he fail? He could not think. He had to stop this madness. This calamity. But he possessed nothing now. Not the salt of Alun, nor the Tortonic concoction, not even a chalk to make to the glyph. All that his battered body held was his will¡ªcrazy, tumultuous and aching to be unleashed and thrown about. Like an unfettered beast. ¡°Stop!¡± he roared. His enormous will burst into a storm of rage and the monster stirred. More arms ripped through the smouldering earth and decimated his surroundings, scattering boulders like flecks of dirt. A terrifying chill swept through the air. Cold, ruthless, irate. Boris gasped as he witnessed something emerge into that dreadful emptiness. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. It was a glowering eye. A dense, billowing orb of fire. The blood red eye stared at him in pure, unconcealed wrath. Boris had never known fear as he knew it now. It paralyzed his mind and melted his skin. It numbed his heart and boiled his soul. It spurned his very existence. All the fury in this world had materialized before him. Become a being in itself. ¡°Uskah shilae¡¯kend,¡± it spoke and Boris surrendered his courage to terror. There was nothing he could do to that. Nothing anyone could. ¡°Get away from it Boris!¡± He knew that voice. No! That wasn''t good! It was all going wrong! Again. ¡°Don''t!¡± his words fell on deaf ears as Ray marched ahead, Claire in tow. Ray held a sword of glowing blue and a shield that looked like translucent petals woven together. They were both immensely powerful, Boris could tell, but futile indeed. ¡°Get back! All of you!¡± Boris howled with all his remaining sanity. They did not listen. Ray plunged ahead, repelling those enormous arms with his shield and slashing inhumanly at them. For a brief, treacherous moment, it seemed he would win. The next moment he was dead, his body pierced by the same wriggling, twisted arm that should have pierced Boris instead. The monster hurled his corpse and Boris dove, desperate to catch him. And even though he knew Ray was dead, Boris could not help but hope. Words repeated inside his head, alien words that should not have made sense. Yet he knew them very well. ''Uskah shilae¡¯kend!'' Boris realized painfully, ''One must die.'' Boris awoke from his sleep craving for breath. Sweating rained down his flushed face in profuse lines of prickling cold. He swept his hair back and wiped his face upon his sleeves. The dream was faint, but its essence lingered. There were broken scenes playing inside his mind. Incoherent memories that did not exist. There were stuck inside like barbs within cotton wool. ¡®One must die,¡¯ his unconscious repeated, ¡®One must die.¡¯ ¡®Stop!¡¯ Boris held his head and silenced it. Tried to ease his throbbing headache. It persisted and Boris shunned it. This was not real. Just a twisted result of his imagination. ''This is just a dream,'' Boris consoled himself, ''I have worse things to worry about.'' Extricating himself out of the tent, Boris wandered into the night outside. It was not his turn on the watch but he did not want to get any more sleep, did not want any more dreams tonight. He wished the day would dawn but knew better. By now, he had grown used to the diurnal cycle and could guess the time with a look. He had grown used to most things in fact. They clashed with bandits twice recently and he faced few dangerous monsters too. It felt like a part of daily life. Even the small village they earlier passed by felt natural and he haggled with merchants amicably. This world was not that bad. Boris shook his head; that was not a thought he wanted to nurture. Boris soon found himself by the site of the extinguished campfire and gazed at the remains. The burnt residue clung sullenly to the ground, wet with the low hanging mist, and shimmied in the flaky moonlight. Despite the scanty breeze, the smell of food had long washed away and all that remained was the ashen impression of firewood in a crisscrossed pattern. Even that made him feel hungry, and hunger turned to relief as Boris chuckled to himself, surprised that not even anxiety could suppress his appetite. He lay down lazily, his mind still hazy like the mist, and looked at the sky above. It was a cloudy night, and the moon floated in and out of cover sluggishly while the air whistled in soft, memorable tunes. Upon this night so promising¡­ It took Boris a while to realize that it was not the breeze but someone singing. A shallow, clumsy voice that Boris could not have figured out, if not for his eager hearing. He got up, intrigued by the song, and followed it up the curve of the hill, between the twisted willows, from where it seemed to descend. ¡­sooth, I hear the dead men sing ¡­say the dead men tell~ no tales¡­ After a long, persistent search, Boris still fumbled about the song¡¯s origin. The more he followed it the more it confused him. The voice did not just radiate from a single point; it seemed to reflect off the trees and the rocks, forming new voices and different tones. It swirled and spun all around him. Boris caught upon a familiar voice within that chorus and traced it deeper through a winding path. ¡­that dreams don¡¯t dwell in si~lent wails¡­ ..what tidings do~ they bring Upon this night so promising~ The surroundings took a faint glow but stood riveted while Boris clambered up. Short, scraggly plants sprouted glowing bulbs on their stalks. He plucked a few but they burst into darkness at his touch. Boris moved on, amazed, and emerged out of the thicket, finding himself face to face with Elaine. Her face was stuck in surprise. ¡°It''s a good song,¡± he said, trying not to look like a stalker. ¡°I know,¡± Elaine replied, regaining her composure. ¡°Do you ever get a good night¡¯s sleep?¡± ¡°Sometimes,¡± Boris shrugged. He scaled the boulder Elaine occupied and took a seat beside her. For a while, they just sat in silence. ¡°You know,¡± Boris began by taking a frosty breath. ¡°I have decided. I won¡¯t be coming back anytime soon.¡± ¡°You¡¯re eloping with Diana?¡± Elaine took a jab at him. ¡°Yes. No! I mean coming back to Cumaria, to my friends, to you.¡± ¡°You will come back,¡± she replied. ¡°Not unless I find a way to return to my world,¡± Boris said. There was another matter clobbering his head. His recent dream left a deeper impression than before. ¡°And how will you do that exactly? Sneak into the night to the demon lord¡¯s base?¡± Elaine asked with growing sarcasm. ¡°I have theories,¡± Boris suggested, ¡°Undoing the summoning spell may be difficult but it¡¯s not impossible.¡± ¡°Do you know what you are talking about?¡± Elaine blurted, ¡°Hundreds of years of work went into creating that single spell. You are not trying to untangle a knot, you are trying to untangle a- a whirlpool, if that makes sense. You have been reading up on glyphs for two weeks and you think you break one of the greatest arcane spells of all time?¡± ¡°I think I can.¡± ¡°¡­.Okay, let¡¯s just say you can,¡± Elaine surrendered with a despairing sigh. ¡°You will still need a lot of help,¡± she expounded further, ¡°From skilled mages to exhaustive books to unusual implements. If you just ask, I can get you into the magic academy. I can get you instructors that will guide you, even Grey seems to be happy to help. And Violet is here. The Farlores have a lot of clout and magic capability. You can roll about in your precious books all day. You can sleep to their words and wake to their smell. You¡¯re abandoning all that on one selfish whim? Throwing your friends away? I just don¡¯t understand. I mean, who in his right mind would even think like that?¡± ¡°I have some misgivings about the kingdom.¡± ¡°And?¡± Elaine arched a brow. ¡°Durham may not like you but I¡¯d like to see him try harming you. That will not end up well, he knows. You are the companion of heroes. If you so wish, you can get the status of a noble.¡± Boris pushed a weak smile on his grim face. ¡°And what if my being here is what drags them to hell?¡± he asked, ¡°If it brings about something worse? If it ends in a calamity?¡± ¡°Now you¡¯re just blowing this up!¡± Elaine exclaimed, ¡°What calamity? The Infernal war is a calamity. It is coming whether you like it or not.¡± ¡°I- something worse maybe coming¡­ and it maybe coming for me. I don¡¯t want people to get embroiled in it.¡± ¡°Putting aside your delusions, people are always going to get embroiled in such things. That¡¯s what people do.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose them. Or you,¡± Boris replied. There were deaths he could tolerate and deaths he could never. It was a biased view perhaps, but he couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°Oh God!¡± Elaine huffed and held her head in annoyance. ¡°So you will run and hide away in some corner of the world for the rest of your life?¡± ¡°There¡¯s not much left of the rest of my life,¡± Boris joked. ¡°Who told you that? It¡¯s Diana isn¡¯t it? That conceited, thoroughbred prude,¡± a harsh, unforgiving tone crept into her voice as Elaine expressed her disapproval. ¡°Why did you keep it from me?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s not necessarily true,¡± Elaine hissed, ¡°You are human but also not so. Your friends are human but even more not so.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t make me any less of an inept.¡± ¡°And who was it that censured me for defining him as an inept?¡± She narrowed her eyes with a frown. ¡°I- well-¡± Boris stuttered, ¡°this isn¡¯t about my identity, it¡¯s about my life.¡± ¡°Which you have thrown into enough peril by now.¡± Elaine picked up a stone and hurled it across the sky, as if aiming to strike a moon. ¡°You want to save yourself by jumping down the abyss?¡± she stared Boris in the eyes, ¡°You don¡¯t want to die but you¡¯re playing with death? You¡¯ve become a mercenary to save lives?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s¡­ hypocritical, I know. But I don¡¯t know how else to go about it.¡± Boris scratched his head and started plucking strands of grass. ¡°Oh I wonder! Surely not by accepting my help or your friends¡¯ support?¡± Elaine countered. ¡°And now we are back to square one.¡± ¡°You are running in circles because you don¡¯t want to get out of it. In fact, you clearly don¡¯t even know what you want ! Which would be all good if you were open to options. But no, you will go that one stubborn route you have decided, right until the dead end. What is it that elves can offer you?¡± Elaine¡¯s voice rose with each sentence she spoke. Boris could almost see her temples throb and her brain heat up. He shook his head and let her will calm down before he spoke again. It gave him time to think. To keep his words simple. ¡°An escape from the kingdom,¡± answered Boris softly, ¡°an alternate outlook on the situation and a deeper understanding of the glyphs and magic. Diana is very different from most people I have ever met.¡± ¡°Oh I bet she is!¡± Elaine heated up again as Boris regretted his choice of words. ¡°You know one elf and you know them all, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°This kingdom did not create magic, Elaine,¡± Boris put out a dismal reply while uprooting a whole chunk of grass with force, ¡°It borrowed that. The glyphs, the spells, the rules. All this came from the elves. Especially the arcane magic,¡± he pointed out, ¡°Which why people here know so less about it. Which is why I have better odds understanding the summoning spell there. Not to mention the Elven Codex which has records older than Cumaria itself, I have heard.¡± This was just something Boris gathered from his conversations with Diana and Grey and the few books he read. ¡°You are not wrong and not right,¡± Elaine replied, ¡°A lot of magic has changed a lot over time. The summoning spells may have been invented by the elves but it¡¯s the humans who refined it.¡± ¡°Well, it looks to me more like we stole it. Diana has told me more about the summoning spell than either Violet or Grey. Even you haven¡¯t told me anything except for the fact that it is triangular. You might call it a secret but I think nobody here knows exactly how or why it works at all. Heck, I might have better luck joining the Cult,¡± Boris justified. With a flick of his hand, he scattered the torn grass all around. There was more to it, he knew. He was trying to find escape. To start afresh with better prospects. But he did not mention it. ¡°You are really rubbing me off now,¡± Elaine answered with a stony voice. ¡°Then let¡¯s not talk about this,¡± Boris huffed, ¡°I am afraid I will say things I will really regret.¡± ¡°So you want me to blindly accept that you may not be coming back and relay that to your friends?¡± ¡°That and, please, don¡¯t tell them I am about to die in two years time. Ray will break into the demon lands like a donkey without its reins. It¡¯s going to make all this much worse.¡± ¡°You are not going to die so easily! And you are going to come back. You can take my word on this.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Boris resigned. ¡°You still have a lot of time to think before you cross into Cylia,¡± Elaine persisted. ¡°Elaine.¡± ¡°Think this through well, Boris. It¡¯s an important decision,¡± Elaine tried to suppress the coercion in her voice but her will gave it away. ¡°Elaine,¡± Boris smirked, feeling a little bit of her worry mixed inside anger, anxiety and denial. ¡°What?¡± Elaine frowned at his silly face, ¡°I¡¯m not asking much.¡± ¡°Then can I ask for a hug?¡± he asked with arms spread wide. Elaine froze, then narrowed her eyes skeptically. ¡°Go and die, you scoundrel.¡± Boris sulked and hugged himself. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll do that sometime,¡± he joked, referring to the eventual certainty of death. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Elaine bit her lip. ¡°Can you at least sing that song again? I really like it now.¡± ¡°Flattery will get you nowhere, boy.¡± ¡°But honesty should,¡± Boris added, turning his back to Elaine¡¯s and turning to face the sky. ¡°We will see,¡± Elaine retorted. Boris waited patiently. Reluctantly, Elaine started to sing again. Her voice was soft and clumsy, full of confidence but devoid of finesse. The song however, did not feel amiss. It was comfortable and touching, almost nostalgic. Boris had no time to wonder if he had heard it before. He drifted off to sleep soundly, his back pressed against Elaine in trust. Elaine continued to sing in half a daze. It was more than a song for her. A shadow of the past and an omen of the future. Despite it all, Elaine could not part with it. It was stuck inside her mind forever. Like a mother¡¯s lullaby. ¡°What a sickly song,¡± a voice commented and Elaine jerked up. ¡°Do you know what it beckons, maiden of light?¡± the creature spoke with a fake smile. It was the height of a child and its form hovered in the air like a ghost, blurry and deceptive. Elaine took a deep breath against her jittery heart, grasping her scepter in readiness. ¡°How did you find me, pixar?¡± she threatened. The pixar vanished a moment and reappeared above her, prompting Elaine to cock her neck at a sharp angle. ¡°We have eyes upon the night and day,¡± he said in a drawling voice. ¡°What conceit makes you hide?¡± Elaine squeezed her scepter and let the blade of light emerge upon it. Her hair started to take a faint glow in the moonlight when she spoke again, ¡°This no place for your kind, pixar. Why are you here?¡± Her voice hid desperation and spilled venom. ¡°A sweet little child you have there,¡± the pixar informed her, vanishing again and reappearing an arm¡¯s length from Boris. ¡°It has caught our fancies.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t touch him,¡± Elaine blurted. ¡°He¡¯s mine.¡± Her weapon now pointed at the hovering pixar while her other arm held Boris by his back. All this while, Boris slept like a log in the ocean, rocking upon the waves without a care. ¡°Yours?¡± the pixar let out a shrill voice, like an insect almost. ¡°What a pitiful deceit you wear. He slips each day from your grasp, like a handful of sand. You know of him nothing. Not his past, nor his future come. And now, he is going to leave without a doubt. You are going to lose him¡­¡± he disappeared and reappeared beside Elaine¡¯s ears. ¡°¡­to the elves,¡± he added in a stabbing voice. Elaine crushed her anger and stormed her thoughts. She could not fight well here. She had very little leeway in between Boris and the pixar. ¡°That is none of your bloody concern,¡± she hissed, scorn dripping, ¡°Keep away from me and my affairs.¡± The pixar flew back up and displayed another smile. His expressions felt utterly shallow¡ªdoctored and fickle¡ªjust like his very presence. ¡°What a poor way you have of turning the favor. Even a bird remembers the hand it feeds off of.¡± ¡°I owe you no favors that I must repay. Do not test my tolerance pixar,¡± Elaine issued another threat in defense, ¡°or you will find it wanting.¡± ¡°There is much more to you we find wanting, Elaine Sithe. Your jest of a threat for one¡­¡± the pixar continued in his drawling voice, ¡°¡­Your pretence for another,¡± he ran a soft, nimble finger upon Elaine¡¯s face before she recoiled and fired a wind sickle that missed him. ¡°Do humor us a while in your intolerance too,¡± he provoked. Elaine pumped mana like a mad beast. Her hair sparked and scattered. Her eyes clogged with immense darkness. Her feet itched with energy while she tugged Boris and carefully laid him down. ¡°You will not get it from me,¡± she declared, ¡°whatever it is you want.¡± She wished it did not come to a fight. She was ill prepared even for escape, much less a fight. ¡°We want that child, we need him more,¡± the pixar parroted his demand. ¡°Well you¡¯re not getting him. Not even over my dead body.¡± She raised her left and shaped a spell upon it. That made the pixar twitch. ¡°He is not the key you search for, maiden of light,¡± the pixar droned, twisting in and out of air. His voice sounded soft, hollow. Elaine gauged him with a tense heart, waiting for any attack to come. ¡°That is for me to decide,¡± she denied, sweat forming upon her brows. Her eyes swayed with the pixar¡¯s shifting form but her feet stood firm. ¡°He will find no use among your aspirations. Like a fish on land, he will always crave the sea beyond. Give him to us.¡± The pixar flashed beside her ears. Elaine swept a blinding slash into the night but it missed, even at an arm¡¯s length. ¡°¡­We know what to do of him. We know how to fulfill your wish.¡± ¡°I have no wishes to speak of.¡± Elaine¡¯s eyes flickered. This was too difficult in the night. She could not feel his presence creep about and her vision was hampered. ¡°So you say, Elaine Sithe. ?You hide it well¡­¡± the pixar preached, ¡°but we know. We know things you crave dearly,¡± he tempted her, ¡°So dearly, you would kill for them. We know where the key dwells. We know how to get it. We can share the knowledge¡­¡± he offered, ¡°but you must share the child with us.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t make me repeat myself, pixar,¡± Elaine stressed. ¡°He is mine, and mine alone.¡± ¡°We have other ways¡­¡± ¡°If you bring him any harm I will hunt you down to my dying breath. I swear upon my blood.¡± ¡°What worth is there of tainted blood?¡± the pixar drawled. ¡°More than your entire vile breed,¡± Elaine spurned his taunt. ¡°A scathing tongue you have tonight. Fair be it. Keep your toy to yourself for now. But beware¡­¡± the pixar warned as it started to fade away, ¡°it is too fragile to hold firm.¡± Elaine glowered at his disappearing figure then collapsed back in relief, regaining her breath in foggy puffs of vapor. She barely seated herself when the voice spiked beside her ears again. Her heart leapt out of her neck in dread. ¡°Oh, before we let slip our mind, a parting gift,¡± the pixar said with feigned amusement, ¡°The tower of Aramad calls. If you so heed it, make haste. Lest it falls to men more foul. Farewell truly, maiden of light,¡± he floated up into the air and waved an arm at her, ¡°Keep ourselves in your bosom. Well hidden but always at hand,¡± then it flew into the darkness. Elaine inhaled a deep gasp as she swallowed the shriek sitting inside her throat. She stayed vigilant for a while, uncertain of the pixar¡¯s whereabouts. But the pixar was long gone. And the fully cloaked figure of Kale appeared back near the camp, walking with a slow, unassuming gait towards his own tent. Left alone, Elaine dragged Boris back to his previous position and propped herself behind him. A slow warmth spread across her back as Elaine yawned and awaited dawn. She did not sing anymore. But the song had yet to die. It lingered in the air meekly. It permeated the grass and soaked into the earth. It greeted the leaves with the whistling wind and stirred the trees in encouragement. It roused the night in query and finally rose to the heavens in prayer. They stared through an echo of silence. They always did. Was silence answer enough? Or was a storm still brewing in reply? ____________________________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________ Things you should note- 1- The dream is changing. 2- The pixars are here finally! (A good round of applause for them.) Edit: People, please tell me you noticed that Kale was a pixar all along! (C''mon, I hinted that brazenly!) 3- How Diana uses her will to force Boris into calm. It is not mind control but it is invasive. (Boris lets her do it). 4- The Divine Hands are an organization that has fallen to corruption and worse over the years. They are closely allied with their Orders which themselves is falling out of power (thanks to the king''s hatred of them. For reasons I will later speak of.) 5- The song, but I guess no need to mention that. 6- And like I said, Elaine is a difficult character to write about. She has the most layers built into her. Some of you (not most, I hope?) would find her frustrating due to the fact that she is curtailing the development of Boris. But wouldn''t you do the same in real life, if you liked Boris? But does she really like Boris? I can''t say. Elaine has to be both frustrating and frustrated at times. I like her the way she is but I also want her to change. But she is very difficult. (Ugh!) Nevermind. Bottom line is, neither you nor I know where Elaine is going. I hope she ends as something better and not worse. Lastly, there are some issues I have noticed in my fiction that none have pointed out. Of time (measurement, progression and naming). Distance (a little vague.) And communication. For now I have arbitrarily decided that time is measured in minutes/hours. An year has thirteen months of 28 dyas each. Distance in imperial units (they sound older) and communication is by good old pigeons/birds. There might be exceptions but I haven''t really given much thought (aside from one particular scenario). ________________________________________________ Spoiler : There is one more thing I must mention again after my previous rant. I am always open to criticism and suggestions. (I like them. There''s a thread for them.) But not to insults and trolling. If you have read my fic this far you should have noticed me changing things a little here and there. Examples? 1- I slashed the screentime of heroes (drastically). This was an opinion from toobadbro and some others. I agreed because it made the story more enjoyable for you. 2- Someone asked me to introduce the other races as well (in suggestions thread). I introduced the pixars a little earlier for that reason. I also wrote a short story. 3- tivanenk said I should write dark. While I could not change that I did write a dark side story. 4- someone also asked about Boris having a dragon. I will let you know about that by the time the Scourge comes. I am listening. If I like it, I will change my events to fit it but I will not change the basic spine and critical points (which were decided from the get go.) This means you can get a story that is mostly my own but still have your wishes granted. (without being an ass about it). Well, I hope that appeals to you. I must also add that sometimes a (even disagreeing/critical) comment just clicks. When this happens, I write the same scene but it turns out much, much better. (This happened with chapter 8). This is actually the biggest reason I am begging for comments and constructive critique. Thanks for reading. PS: Next update will come much later. Expect 2 months or so. Sorry. EDIT: Here''s an additional treat (Thanks to na700037 for jogging my memory). Elaine for eye candy. Rock, moon and clouds for ambience. Boris for scale. This is the last scene (and scientifically inaccurate :P). It has been sitting with me for months but I couldn''t post before completing this chapter. Like my map this is hand-drawn+camscanned+2 filters. This is the best I can draw. Expect one more pic about 10 chapters later. _theDeva 19-1. City of Glass I - Elves and exiles Yay!! Thanks for voting 95-2 for me! And thanks for the reviews and ratings! (especially lulol and deathless.smile for advanced reviews) Blurb here-Spoiler : So yeah, because blurbs distract, I''ll put them in spoiler from now, unless they''re important (like maps) Special thanks to reviewers. And a big thanks to Chiisu and Resonantice for pointing out flaws in my fic. I have edited the last 2 chaps. @cadambank congrats, you got me to release early. @lulol I hope this chap gives you an external view (but remember, no view is unbiased) @SomeForestedArea you''re asking the right questions. But I''m going to give you answers yet (muehehe!) Because some one asked how I plan my story, I''m going to brag about it. This story is has some fixed points which I know, the rest is just winging it. I plan 2-5 scenarios between these points and choose one. This will seem really funny later because it fits the plot well. Example. fixed point was Diana taking Boris along. Whether Boris won/lost/didn''t fight the duel, Diana would still take him but the reasons and the result would differ, a lot. Thanks for reading. 19-1. City of Glass I - Elves and exiles The sun was not yet at its zenith when the caravan rolled towards Bizeon. Four wagons flanked on each side by remounts mounted by guards, less than half the remnants of what had ridden from Velur. Some merchants retired at Barrelfarm earlier, with nothing of theirs left to sell in Bizeon. By the look on their faces, the guards lost a pretty penny in return. Halkone wore his frown so deep that it stretched a shadow across his bearded cheeks and raised the scar upon his brow. He sent a ripple through the reins of their horse, a black stallion, and nudged it left across the rocky land to the Merithyll bridge that touched the southern gates of Bizeon. Seated behind Halkone, Boris gaped at the massive walls ahead. His eyes skirted the full length of the city, almost as big as Orin and doubly beautiful. Slanted walls rounded the curve of the river in solid stone, twice as thick at the bottom. Flags fluttered vibrant colors above guarded watchtowers. As they joined a growing influx of curious watchers and wearied visitors, Boris noticed Halkone was not alone in his discontent. The crowd before the gates bristled with disgruntled voices. People huddled together for warmth in the icy breeze and buzzed with whispers and grunts. Eager people in curious pleated robes of violet or yellow, weary people in turbans and loose hanging coats, singing people in striped robes and wooden sandals, and sour people in cloaks and armor. They jerked and jostled, eager to leave the sluggish queue that meandered into the city one man at a time. Carts and wagons occupied another queue to the right, the drivers shouting at pedestrians to move aside. Fewer left while more joined the unending line with each advancing step. Four distinct roads converged at the bridge upon Thiraine and each brought visitors. Sullen at the long wait, Boris cocked his head about and rubbed his belly, peering from the city gates ahead to the stony bridge behind. Lines of porters hauled carts across the bridge. Below it, the banks of Thiraine swelled with barges and sailormen. Gangplanks reverberated under heavy boots and wheels. The wind swirled up in a tingling chill and brought smells of a dozen kinds. Condiments and fresh fruits, farms and flowers, damp books and raw fishes, and sweaty boots and smelly clothes. Boris sniffed his cloak and frowned. He needed a bath. Soon. The throng brushed against his feet as Halkone clucked at the horse, and a scowling man shoved his foot away. The wagons ahead turned a little and Boris caught a glimpse of the city beyond. Rooftops slanted up in the distance, a dim mosaic of reds, greens, blues and yellows mingled with chimneys and towers. Another wagon blocked his view and Boris leaned out, his bandaged hands clutching Halkone¡¯s sides, to gaze farther. Halkone grumbled and Boris gaped. Gleaming domes in white and green dwarfed the grandeur of the walls. A sleek spire rose at the peak, winding and translucent, a spear of ice almost, that crafted slivers of rainbow in soft, memorable patterns under the sun. ¡°Holy!¡± Boris exclaimed. ¡°Oh, I assure you that,¡± Halkone started. ¡°This city is so holy you¡¯ll think you¡¯re vermin beneath your gods. Now will you settle down or should I throw you off the bridge into Thiraine, and let its waters wash you holier.¡± Boris straightened himself on the horse with a huff, muttering as he knuckled an aching back and sore neck. At least the saddle wasn¡¯t enchanted. Still, riding a horse would never be on his list of things to experience again. ¡°What is that? That spire,¡± Boris whispered. Halkone waved an exasperated gesture at the checkpoint ahead. A dozen armored guards stood blocking the queue, their hands on spears and halberds. Massive wooden doors stood open behind them and a hint of iron grills behind showed the portcullis. The guards appeared more threatening here. Narrowing his eyes, Boris made out stony faces harsher than the winter cold. Violet or yellow streaked across their armor in broad lines and a sharper scrutiny revealed an emblem. The guards in violet wore a dragon pierced by four swords on their left breast and flaunted polished halberds. The yellow ones sported a chalice wrapped in vines on their right breasts while armed with spears and shields. Boris grimaced. Halberds and Shields stood watch at the gates of Bizeon. ¡°We¡¯re about to pass through the eyes of madmen,¡± Halkone whispered. ¡°And there¡¯s thrice as many as usually stand guard here. Eager. All of them. You behave like that and they¡¯ll have you in for all manner of reasons.¡± One of the Halberds stared hard at Boris. Startled, Boris huddled up, pulled his hood tight and lowered his head, eyes fixed on the square blocks of floor that bore discolored fringes of winter-worn grass. Given who they were bringing along, he did not want trouble. ¡°None of that either,¡± Halkone grumbled. ¡°Keep your head straight and your eyes dull. Try to look stupid, they like that,¡± he waved his neck at Boris, ¡°and you seem pretty good at that too.¡± Their horse and the first wagon came to a stop by the barricade of wood and a Halberd stepped forward. ¡°Hurry up you scoundrels,¡± he ordered. ¡°I don¡¯t have all day.¡± The head merchant scuttled forward from his carriage with his belly swinging and Boris caught a glimpse of Diana, relaxed, gesturing at him. Frowning, he took a deep breath and forced his spine erect, trying to not to look at anything, especially the guards. The merchant halted with a heave and smiled at the first Halberd, a man with thick mustache and heavy brows. ¡°Glory be to Thiracus and those who uphold His name,¡± the merchant parroted, then turned to the Shields farther back. ¡°Praise be to Irilea and those who uphold Her mercy.¡± ¡°You¡¯re late this time, Osvay,¡± the Halberd frowned, ¡°too late,¡± he glanced at the wagons, ¡°and carrying trouble, perhaps. I hear of dark shadows in the Needlewoods.¡± ¡°Pardon this humble believer. As always, I come seeking the safety of Thiracus.¡± Osvay bowed and held out an amulet of Thiracus. The wrought metal gleamed gold with four blades that stabbed a black dragon and twirled in the wind from its golden chain, almost alive. Osvay passed it on with a nimble hand, wrapping it upon a deftly concealed gold crown. With a snort, the Halberd received the amulet, examined, then returned it. The crown was gone, a glint of gold added to his pockets without a hint of smile. ¡°And?¡± he grated, his mustache flaring, ¡°Is this the extent of your faith?¡± Osvay hesitated and the Shield behind twirled her spear with hungry eyes. ¡°I hear of pagans in Needlewoods,¡± she smiled. ¡°Are your sure you¡¯re not carrying any?¡± Twitching, Osvay scrabbled around the hidden pockets of his embroidered coat and produced two more gold coins, the Crown of Cumaria embossed upon each. Hesitation cramped his hands but he let the gold slide into the rough palms of the Halberd. This time the man in violet smiled¡ªa faint twist of his lips that vanished fast¡ªand hissed words at his companion. The woman moved to inspect the caravan. After a flimsy search of the wagons, the Shield noticed Diana and froze. ¡°There¡¯s an elf here,¡± she shouted over the crowd with her spear raised. Osvay twitched again and the mustached Halberd glared, then scooted towards Diana. ¡°Ah,¡± he recognized with a sneer, ¡°the highborn heathen. Back into the light? I fear it won¡¯t do much for your tainted heart.¡± ¡°If you are here to stop me,¡± Diana answered, looking down at the templar, ¡°then I suggest you hurry. Or leave otherwise.¡± Her soft voice felt like a blizzard and her will laid an icy edge against the Halberd, far worse than the winter breeze. Boris shuddered. The Halberd scowled, hands shivering, and clenched his jaw in hatred. ¡°Count your days, elf. Thiracus will not save the faithless. Not when the Doom Foretold comes. Not even Irilea will spare her mercy for your lot.¡± Diana stayed silent and he stamped back with his weapon scraping the stone. ¡°Better heed your company, Osvay. We do not favor tainted hearts,¡± he warned then waved at his companion, ¡°Let them go! And you lot,¡± he screamed at the crowd behind, ¡°Keep quiet or I will hurl you all out this instant!¡± The crowd ebbed and the caravan started towards the boulevard ahead with a squeak of wheels and a clatter of hooves. Stalls encroached the borders here, with an assortment of items spread out under colorful awnings, and hawkers lauded their wares with enthusiasm. Rows of trees sprang about the edges. Their pointed shoots were all but bare and the few remaining leaves looked ready to abandon the warm sun and embrace the muddy ground below. A gust ruffled a patch of faded green and some leaves fell, joining the litter beside the roots. Water gushed in distant sparkles faintly visible between the buildings, perhaps a stream that joined Thiraine. Advancing, the caravan came to a slow stop by the first roadside inn. Boris dismounted, fetched his knapsack and bundle, then accompanied the other guards to receive his pay. A crabby Osvay sat inside his wagon, wiping his face though it bore no sweat. He doled out each guard¡¯s pay with haste, mumbling his words. Boris was the last. ¡°Ah, the elfling,¡± Osvay began then pursed his lips shut. The merchant poured out twelve silvers and Boris shoved the stinging metal into his pouch. Halkone snorted at the amount. ¡°The rest is paid for Scythian,¡± Osvay grumbled, ¡°I am an honest man. Not like¡­ like some others.¡± ¡°Books and necessities,¡± Boris explained when Halkone eyed him, rubbing the arrows packed in his quiver. Halkone guffawed. ¡°Books?¡± the scythian choked, ¡°¡­books,¡± then shook his head. ¡°You won¡¯t survive long like that.¡± He slapped Boris¡¯s back. ¡°Come find me at the guilds if you need work.¡± Boris buckled under the weight of his blow then whirled around to retort, but Halkone turned away and Kale followed him with a faint nod at Boris. Together they faded into the crowd. Boris shrugged. No one else spared him a glance. ¡®Two more would have if that had not happened.¡¯ A shudder ran up his arms. Gabe and Wylf were dead. Shirking from that thought, Boris swallowed and scrubbed his hands on his cloak. He was about to leave when Diana appeared. ¡°Find the Cylian Embassy if you land in trouble. And practice your basics, I will find you when we need to leave,¡± she told him then proceeded to engage Osvay in conversation. Boris heard something about horses and money when Diana turned and frowned. ¡°Stop dallying around and find yourself a place to stay,¡± she ordered, ¡°You¡¯re not staying at the embassy even if you beg.¡± Huffing, Boris drew a cold breath against his fluttering hood and strapped it tight across his chin. He scooted towards the end of the wagon, looking for Thea while he frisked his pockets in search of Estin¡¯s letter. Suddenly the wagons started again. ¡®Wait, don¡¯t tell me she left?¡¯ Boris scrambled then skidded to a stop at the sight of Elaine. Thea stood close behind. ¡°I should have known,¡± he sighed. ¡°We need to find your uncle Thea,¡± a touch of envy dipped into his voice as he went for her, ¡°You can¡¯t just cling to Elaine all the time.¡± With a flinch, Thea sprang away and huddled behind Elaine. The color of dark wood loomed in her listless eyes. Silent, they dug into Boris. Boris licked his lips and pulled his hood tighter, trying to hide his face. He gave another vigorous scrub to his hands and smelled them. ¡®No blood,¡¯ he assured himself, ¡®They¡¯re not bloodied,¡¯ and pulled out Estin¡¯s letter. ¡°Your uncle, remember?¡± He waved the scroll before Thea. ¡°Uncle Rowan? Spotty nose? Bald head?¡± Thea clutched the hem of Elaine¡¯s woolen overcoat in reply. ¡°She comes,¡± her voice shivered, ¡°she comes.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Elaine pulled Thea¡¯s bundles from the girl and slung them along with her own. The sight of her hauling three separate bundles made Boris frown. Struggling with his own knapsack, he flung a hand to grab Thea¡¯s bundle but Elaine pulled it away. ¡°You don¡¯t need to¡ª¡± Boris protested. ¡°I will,¡± Elaine interrupted. She snatched the letter from Boris and stuffed it inside her robes. Elaine clasped Thea¡¯s wrist and pulled her along. Defeated, Boris followed two spans behind, stealing glances at the city around. People drifted by in close groups of two or three. A group of children brushed past him hooting and yelling, and Boris traced their strides to the line of shops ahead. Cobblers and tinners laid out their tools on mats, with grocers shouting their prices over carts and stalls. Stone-walled shops flaunted polished signs at their entrances and displayed wares and weapons, all decorated, upon counters and walls. They cut off into a street to their left, following Estin¡¯s horribly scribbled map and Elaine¡¯s sense of familiarity. Thea often opened her mouth to gesture but never spoke, sending furtive glances at Boris as she stuck to Elaine. A second turn to their left found them in a peaceful street and they stopped beside a blue-roofed house with a shop to its side. It lay between where the markets ended and the residences begun. ¡°/Potions P/¡± the sign read. ¡°I think this is the place.¡± Boris looked up and down the house. A coat of whitewash smeared the bricks and the windows stood shut against the winter cold. Blue canvas hung from a balcony above the shop entrance, swelling and dying with the gusts of wind. The shop window hid the insides behind dusty curtains. ¡°What next?¡± Boris asked and Elaine rapped at door three times, each sharper than a previous one. ¡°It is open,¡± a loud voice answered. ¡°Come on in!¡± Elaine pushed the door in with a soft creak and the trio stepped in. ¡°/Potions¡± was an old shop from the looks of it. Stocky beams held up a stony roof dull with age and wooden shelves outfitted the hollows that made the whole shop appear much larger, and perhaps it was. A look of order occupied the front half of the shop, with phials, pouches and jars all sitting in discretely labeled spaces. The air smelled curious, a mix of burnt grass and bitter leaves among faint traces of others. Boris sniffed the trail to the far side of the room, unkempt and stuffed with a pile of random tools from scrolls to spoons, spilling out of draped crevices. Half a shadow stirred and Boris almost jumped. A stocky man emerged, his face flat except for a spotted nose that he rubbed vigorously. ¡°Yes?¡± he said, dropping a pouch into the pile behind him. He bent over the counter, and his narrowed eyes widened at Elaine. ¡°Irilea bless us, to think that¡ª His voice choked. The man¡¯s gaze caught Thea squirming beside Elaine and he swallowed, then stormed out of the counter and bypassed Elaine in a hurry. Shivering, he caught Thea¡¯s shoulders and pulled her close. Boris made out a faint twitch of relief in Thea¡¯s eyes before her uncle hugged her and swung from side to side. ¡°Irilea bless you,¡± his voice was hoarse, ¡°Irilea bless you.¡± At long last, the man parted and bowed at Elaine. ¡°I cannot thank you enough. I cannot. I- you have my gratitude.¡± He grasped Thea¡¯s arm and made her bow the same. ¡°I am ashamed to have involved you in such petty matters.¡± ¡°You¡¯re Rowan Nervant, correct?¡± Elaine asked. ¡°Yes, yes¡­ I¡¯m her uncle. I heard what happened. I couldn¡¯t- I wasn¡¯t- Irilea bless you Maiden of Light, bless you a thousand times over and over.¡± ¡°You can thank him for the trouble,¡± Elaine pointed out Boris. ¡°And that priest Estin.¡± She dug into her robes and held out Estin¡¯s letter. ¡°This was for you.¡± Rowan took the letter with another bow and laid it onto the counter. His gaze fell on Boris now. ¡°A young lad,¡± he traced the bandages on Boris¡¯s left hand, ¡°been through rough. Difficult, I know. I was once- I don¡¯t want to remember. Irilea bless you for everything. And Estin, that gold-hearted fool.¡± ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Boris responded with a nod and his knapsacks slid off his shoulders. Swerving, he jerked and pulled them back. They felt heavier now, but he felt lighter. There was a faint smile on his lips too, he realized. Weariness made its way to his content mind and he yawned. ¡°I should leave now, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°Oh no,¡± Rowan glanced up from the letter and shook his hands, ¡°please stay. I¡¯ll call up my wife, can¡¯t let guests go back empty-handed. Just a moment.¡± Rowan folded his letter while Boris hunched his shoulders a little. ¡°Ah, you are tired. Of course, of course,¡± he ran glances at Elaine, ¡°bash me, I forgot. I have some places to rest,¡± his voice was uncertain. ¡°If, if you don¡¯t mind of course. Not the best beds but they¡¯re warm. And some tea,¡± he frisked through the jars behind and pushed one out on the counter. From the way he faced Elaine, expectant and jittery, Boris formed the impression he was afraid to offend her. ¡°Good tea,¡± Rowan tried to smile but his cracked lips made it seem like a scowl. ¡°A good rest will do the boy well, same for you Thea,¡± he drew the girl in and patted her head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry anymore. No one will harm you here. No one.¡± Boris hesitated a moment. He glanced at Elaine and she shrugged. Then he took in Thea and she shrunk, tugging her uncle¡¯s sleeves. Boris swallowed and looked away. ¡°I really should leave. It¡¯s important,¡± he told Rowan. ¡°I have a lot to do.¡± ¡°Right now?¡± Rowan sounded dejected and apprehensive at the same time. ¡°It¡¯s important,¡± Boris repeated, his throat dry, and scrubbed the itching scar on his left arm. ¡®What did I expect? A medal? Not after what I did.¡¯ ¡°I understand,¡± Rowan said. ¡°Important, of course, bash me I forget my place.¡± With several more gestures and words of gratitude, Rowan let Elaine and Boris go, but not before handing them each a pouch of herbs. They were great for exhaustion, he said. Washed away fatigue and helped rejuvenate the body. Back outside, Boris stroked the pouch while following Elaine out. He skimmed the lanes for inns but a corner of his sight always occupied Elaine¡¯s back. She would go her own way now. He needed to say goodbye and look for a place to stay and some work. His steps wavered a little but Elaine kept true to their path until they reached the boulevard again. There, the din increased and Boris lost his chance. Elaine merged into the crowd without a word, while Boris sighed and started towards the line of inns opposite her path. How difficult was it to say goodbyes? Why did he always skimp on such matters? Boris lowered his head and trudged on. He¡¯d get some rest and think upon it later. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± Startled, Boris whirled around to the familiar voice. He held his smile. ¡°I thought you left.¡± ¡°I thought I asked you to follow me,¡± Elaine answered. ¡°I have to look for a place to stay,¡± Boris peered between her and the inns to his left, ¡°or Diana will burn me and I will freeze to death.¡± Elaine arched a brow. ¡°And where do you think I am taking you?¡± ¡°Oh no,¡± he hesitated, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to trouble you anymore.¡± With a shake of her head, Elaine sighed. ¡°I would be more troubled by you freezing to death. You¡¯ve earned what, twenty, thirty silvers? How long do you think it¡¯ll last you in a city as grand as this? It''s as costly as the capital.¡± Realization hit Boris and he clenched his coin pouch, then jerked away from the sting of metal coins. Elaine frowned as he rubbed his hands for warmth. ¡°I¡¯ll take up work,¡± he ran a glance through the shops up the street. ¡°It¡¯ll be alright, I¡¯m sure.¡± A wagon hustled past and Elaine nudged Boris away to the edge of the street by his shoulder, against the rough bole of a tree. Cold gust whipped a few leaves into fall and Elaine clutched her woolens while she leaned in to inspect his hands. Boris hid them and she twitched. ¡°The Legion¡¯s Keep has warm beds and food, practice grounds for training and of course, a library. You could live there for a while. Better than scouring the city for a pittance of pay and sleeping in barns at night.¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°Why?¡± Boris asked, reluctant to remove her arm is from his shoulder. ¡°Why what?¡± Elaine brushed the leaves off his cloak and straightened her back. At her full, she stood a hand taller than him. It gave her an air of authority when she wanted, and a feel of being distant otherwise. Boris disliked that. ¡°What do you want me for?¡± he asked, struggling with the weight of his knapsack. ¡°To help you.¡± Elaine adjusted the strap at his shoulders and tied it into a firm knot beneath his arm. ¡°Unless you¡¯re staying with Diana.¡± She pulled the knot tighter and Boris shrunk away, loosening it for relief. ¡°Well I¡¯m not,¡± he shrugged at her tight voice. He wanted to accompany her and he did not like it. He wanted to do things by himself, without having to abandon her. ''I''m trying to depend on her,'' he shook his head. ¡°Leeching off you feels¡­ wrong. I can support myself Elaine.¡± ¡°Sure you can.¡± Elaine smirked. ¡°Are you coming or not?¡± There was something about her smile that often irked him. Even natural, it felt incomplete. He wished he could complete it, then tossed the thought out. ¡°Do I have to work in return?¡± Boris diverted the question. ¡°Do you want to?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯d-¡± A thousand thoughts ran through his head. He focused on one. ''Home! I need to go home.'' ¡°I¡¯d like some time to think maybe.¡± ¡°You''ll have plenty at the Legion Keep. With food and bed.¡± ¡°That sounds too good.¡± He wouldn''t need to worry about a place to stay. He could focus on studying glyphs. They had a library too. It was more than he could ask for. Unless there was a catch. ¡°There''s no twist here,¡± Elaine said before Boris could get those words out. ¡°Are you coming or not?¡± ¡°I hope Diana does not frown upon this.¡± ¡°Are you coming or not?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take it up,¡± Boris decided and smiled back. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Let''s hurry then.¡± Elaine cut through the crowd with confidence, leading him on. ------------------------ A frown touched her lips as Diana skirted the marketplace. She cast a doubtful gaze towards the distant dome of the embassy and traced it back, through the vibrant mansions, across the Shattered-Sword Inn, to the shops around her. People milled around in the warmth of winter''s sun. They sized up fruits and groceries, haggled over warmer clothes, browsed the finer wares, and bought a little something sometimes¡ªa woolen scarf, a basket of tubers, a new pair of boots or a set of shining glassware. They did not seem startled at all. With a soft sway of her head, Diana crossed the Inn into the central square. Two temples faced the Shattered Sword Inn on each side here, their buff stones hewn from the quarries of Ley and adorned with strips of inscribed marble. An imposing statue of Thiracus occupied the centre of the square, upon a black pedestal nearly fifteen feet high and much wider. His huge bronze axe rested upon broad, stony shoulders and a ruby-crusted crown settled on his wide forehead. A humbler sculpture of Irilea loomed beside him, holding a chalice that seemed to overflow. Their glass-lined eyes gleamed alive in the day. Yet the pedestal was wider still, and part of it could have held another god in all his glory. Halberds and Shields guarded the perimeter there, their eyes vigilant and weapons ready. Beside them, the pedestal broke into steps that ended in a wooden platform with gibbets, pillories, ropes, chains and pillars. Diana swept a vague glance through fresh corpses hanging from the gibbets. Naked bodies riddled with welts, bruises and gashes. They swayed like broken dolls in the wind. And dark, squalid blood oozed out of them, forming droplets that trickled down splintered toenails. The sewers would drain it all into the labyrinth eastward. The screams lingered. Decades of grief and angst clung to the air, frozen in time, worsening her headache. A seething Halberd swore at Diana and she moved on, ignoring his ridicule. This was no time to reflect upon the beliefs of humans. Like dwarves, humans added images to their gods. Created gods out of stone and metal and worshipped their own creations. Most elves would balk at the idea. However amusing as it was, every being had a right to its own faith. Something most humans had yet to fathom. In time, they would. Diana cut into the streets to her west and up the wide slabs of stairs that parted the residential quarters into halves and curved away from the Lord''s mansion. She crossed a small bridge upon the Meandering Spring, sparing no look at canoes drifting through, and reached the footsteps of the embassy. She frowned. No people crossed the streets behind and the marble steps wobbled in queasy silence. Diana climbed up, the sunlight seeming to shy away from her, and reached the redwood doors fitting snugly into the white walls. For a moment her fingers treaded the intricate carvings of the door, a representation of double dragons entwined with a hint of silver and a pattern of bold red silkshade. It was a gift from the late king of Cumaria, a sign of conciliation. A miracle by no small efforts. Diana smiled. Her hands then slid across the stained glass panels to stop at the moon-mix orb, just below the doorbell. The orb pulsed with wards too strong. Stifling a crease of her brow, Diana fed her will to the orb and unfurled the wards around her. The steps stopped wobbling and sunlight sneaked past the opened doors, casting her shadow on spotless marble floorings. Diana shut the door behind her, letting the wards regain, and stepped into the antechamber. Plastered white walls greeted her. Their octagonal symmetry lent itself to patterned windowpanes, ending in two curved staircases that reached the gallery. A banner hung from the beams supporting the gallery, flapping the emblem with six swords in a wheel and eight wings around. Below it was the reception where Jorrel sat, his navy blue robes ruffling as he shoved away a stack of records inside the oak desk and hurried towards her. Jorrel grabbed her knapsack and bowed fluently, without any reverence. ¡°May the light hail your return with grace and the wind embrace your burdens.¡± His voice was smooth, and his shorter span matched his rounded face but clashed against his acidic manners. ¡°May the night defer your fears and the earth affirm your strength,¡± Diana replied customarily. ¡°Jorrel, what in serpent¡¯s skin is going on?¡± she cut to the point, enquiring about the wards. Jorrel almost snorted, pointing her to a large couch with a table beside it. Diana took a seat and beckoned him. He searched a moment, bringing out a bottle of Shilan with two glasses. ¡°We received a gift of Shilan recently, if you''d want.¡± He paused, gauging Diana''s prickly mood, and nodded. ¡°Yes, you will like it,¡± he assured her and filled a glass. Shilan smelled like milk and looked deceivingly similar, if not for the tiny particles of refined pristle and their faint effervescence. It tickled the tongue and left a milder, lingering sweetness behind. Diana tasted the drink with satisfaction and relaxed. She was not tired, but some things required patience. ¡°So then,¡± she asked Jorrel, ¡°First, where are the others?¡± ¡°I took some liberty in granting them a leave. I do not believe in tyranny after all. And Tiella is out on business, she took the remainder with her.¡± Diana nodded, took another gulp and exhaled. ¡°I don''t think I have had a headache since the tragedy of Dunsig.¡± ¡°You forget the Sumarian war, my lady. Though I''d venture it wasn''t a headache to you, you were the headache to all of it,¡± Jorrel added with such politeness that it would put an Aldaan to shame. ¡°Jorrel,¡± Diana warned with a terse tone and proceeded to chug her drink empty. ¡°My apologies. Would it be more to your liking if I enquired the cause of your worry or should I perhaps explain the circumstances that have been brewing of late and let you lead me on?¡± he asked in his charming voice. ¡°You can start with your explanation and drop that tone before you do it. I don''t like being irritated when I already am.¡± Diana slapped her glass before him. Sunlight filled her glass with colors and cast a rainbow on the polished table below. She rotated the glass once, clockwise, shifting the rainbow opposite. ¡°As you say then,¡± Jorrel twisted his tone, making it sharp and cohesive. He filled Diana''s glass and continued, ¡°Their king has given Orders free reign, because of the reports that the Cult of Solomon has turned dangerous. And so the purge, or whatever they call it, has begun again. You should have noticed.¡± Diana nodded. ¡°It has become a hassle,¡± she complained before pausing to drink. ¡°It has, obviously,¡± Jorrel agreed while he poured a glass for himself. He held it to the light in inspection but the drink did not sparkle, only fizzled at its surface. ¡°As far as I am concerned, these morons can kill each other all they want any number of times. Sadly, the templars are not known for tolerance and I think there is a small chance they may turn their blades this way. We too are pagans in their eyes, after all.¡± He shrugged as if this was a tiresome discussion. ¡°So you cast stronger wards on the Embassy?¡± Diana sighed. ¡°That wasn''t a smart move, Jorrel. I can feel these wards half way across the city. It only makes us stand out. And you know how their High Lord will take to us once he knows.¡± ¡°What could I do?¡± Jorrel replied. ¡°Misdirection or concealment wouldn''t work. There would be a furor if the Elven embassy suddenly seems to disappear. I put them up for defense and distortion. It takes a lot to make them effective you know, don''t expect me to save your ass and wipe it clean too.¡± ¡°Yes I don''t,¡± Diana answered, ¡°so you will lessen the wards and I will see what can be done instead.¡± ¡°Now wait a minute,¡± Jorrel started, putting down the glass without a taste. Standing, he bent over the table till his eyes were level with hers and frowned one of his usual frowns. His nose swelled a little while his ears twitched. ¡°Why do you think I was forced to do all this? You abandon your post to go frolic in the capital and I have to deal with all the grunt work your father sends this way. I don''t think servants are meant for this, do you?¡± ¡°You are not a servant, Jorrel,¡± Diana disagreed. ¡°That is not how this works. I took you in as a proxy; you are far too qualified to be a servant.¡± Jorrel raised his head and shook it. ¡°Don''t say that. The Eldership would have nightmares if they heard you.¡± Diana grinned. ¡°That would be a sight to see. Now I need time to think, so you go remove those wards.¡± She turned her empty glass counterclockwise, out of habit, and started to leave. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can''t do that,¡± Jorrel repeated after taking a whisk of the drink himself. ¡°My first concern is to keep the embassy, and you,¡± he pointed his glass at her, ¡°out of trouble. I''d rather not see the templars die at your hands. We don''t need another war. There''s already one coming.¡± ¡°I am not here to fight. I am leaving for Cylia very soon. I''ll see to the templars and the Orders without violence.¡± Jorrel almost spat his drink before forcing it back down his throat while coughing. ¡°You are leaving? Again?¡± He raised his ears. ¡°My lady, your father doesn''t want you back yet. He sent you here for a purpose, I think, and I am sure it wasn''t so you could go back and set Kurd to flames or make the Ka¡¯taar boil red in winter. I think you should rethink your decision, as a dignitary of Cylia and as an Elder''s daughter, before you start your usual disobedience.¡± ¡°What do you think my father sent me here for?¡± Diana questioned. She walked back towards him in annoyance, urging him to ask so she could unload a part of her headache on his incredulous face. ¡°It''s not my position to know,¡± Jorrel replied curtly. He picked up the empty glasses and receded, walking towards the basin. ¡°The summoning ceremony for heroes went wrong,¡± Diana continued. ¡°I would reckon it did,¡± Jorrel opined while grabbing a pitcher of water. ¡°Guess they never learnt how to count the years? The millennial cycle jumps from odd to odd Scifers. There¡¯s another year before their long cherished alignment occurs.¡± Diana paused and blinked. ¡°¡­.Why didn¡¯t you¡­¡± she swallowed her question. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ask? Oh, right,¡± Jorrel widened his eyes and lowered his pointed ears, ¡°you were too busy enjoying your escapades.¡± ¡°You always know how to add thorns to my thoughts, Jorrel,¡± Diana conceded with crossed arms. Jorrel smirked. ¡°I have a good mentor. The Inazi spit curses upon her name and the Ka¡¯taar vomit blood.¡± ¡°Forget it. I will tell you what went wrong.¡± ¡°I don''t think you should.¡± ¡°I don''t mind,¡± Diana said, ¡°In fact, I think you should know. Ary''ann predicted it, my father feared it, the Eldership dreaded it. They didn''t really know what would occur but they knew it would. Do you know what happened?¡± She took a brief while to inspect the keystones across the room. Her will swept out in tendrils, brushing each ward in query. They were intact and secure. Satisfied, she waited for Jorrel¡¯s answer. ¡°I. Don''t. Want. To. Know,¡± Jorrel refused in clear, spaced speech. He had enough on his mind and most of it was not even his responsibility. ¡°Four people were summoned. Four, not three. Very few know this, and no one knows why.¡± Diana ignored his words the same way she always did, pulling him into her own pace as if he were an opponent. ¡°And you do,¡± Jorrel grumbled as he washed the glasses clean. ¡°This is going exactly the way I don''t want it¡­ Is it really bad?¡± He was in. Not that he had a choice here. For a moment, Diana stood silent. Then, when she spoke, her voice was whisper of the autumn wind, rustling across Jorrel¡¯s ears as it died. ¡°They fear the Trueborn will not come.¡± Jorrel gawked, jaw swinging for lack of words and arms rigid like stone. Those words were harrowing. Aside from the Eldership, not even the Elkeen should have known of this. ¡°You are a fool, Diana,¡± he whispered back, abandoning all pretext of respect for reproach. ¡°This is not something to speak of, no matter how much you trust someone. The wind has ears and the earth has eyes.¡± ¡°You will want to know.¡± ¡°Why?¡± he asked, his ears twitching again. ¡°Because you will be accompanying us back, me and the fourth one.¡± Jorrel jerked. He fiddled with the glasses in confusion, unsure whether or not to throw one of them at Diana. He decided it would be a shame to lose a fine glass over her and placed them back on the rack. ¡°Come again, please?¡± ¡°You heard me.¡± Diana slumped back into the couch. ¡°The fourth one,¡± she revealed, ¡°he is an interesting boy. Give it some time and I think you will like him.¡± ¡°Huh? You are bringing him along just like that? Forgive me, Your Craziness, but the Elders don''t like surprises. I am having no part in this. Go set the Sila''Druuk aflame for all I care!¡± Jorrel wiped his hands clean and raised them in surrender. ¡°You will have to come,¡± Diana disagreed with a wave of her hand. ¡°I need a guide I can trust and a man who can keep an eye on the kid when I can''t.¡± Placing the bottle back into its shelf, Jorrel slouched to a reluctant seat against her carrying a serving of dry fruits. ¡°And how exactly, are you going to get him past the border? Hide him under your clothes?¡± he asked. ¡°That won''t be needed. He is my disciple, he goes wherever I go.¡± Diana swiped a few cashews and almonds off with a blur of her hand. There was no hint of doubt or concern upon her face. ¡°Great!¡± Jorrel offered with a twitching smile, ¡°Why don''t you go ahead and marry him while you''re at it? Let''s see your father have a fit. And let''s get exiled while we do so.¡± He tried to keep the cynicism in his voice but his will was already rippling out, a dull, serrated edge that pressed against Diana''s keen mind. Diana sliced that will apart and poked his mind. ¡°No. Just no,¡± he shook his head and scratched the golden emblem upon his coat, ¡°Don¡¯t try to coerce me. I don¡¯t want to go. I want to quit. A Gilden mine would serve me better than this. Send your own damned explanations to your father.¡± ¡°You can quit later, Jorrel. You should come. I am taking the kid through the sands of Kurd, to Ilmaar. Ary''ann must see him. Ary''ann must know what has happened. Trust me, this is for the best.¡± ¡°Did the Eldest tell you so?¡± he asked, suspicion flaming his sand-brown eyes. ¡°He will, once he sees the kid,¡± Diana replied. She stared him with confidence, waiting for agreement. ¡°By the Sages,¡± Jorrel held his head. His will rumbled low across the room, grating at Diana before collapsing. ¡°You do realize the Elders of Ilmaar would sooner allow a pig into their beds than allow the boy to meet the Eldest? Are you doing this on your own?¡± he spoke with a growing sense of unease. ¡°I will have to,¡± Diana said, ¡°if you don''t accompany me. But I know you will.¡± She smiled like a predator. That was how it always looked to Jorrel. Like the maws of death had opened and one could not help but fall in. He would always question his sanity afterwards. But as an employed servant, Jorrel had a duty. Hell, he would accompany her to hell, and maybe kick her in while at it. ¡°This is the last time I swear,¡± Jorrel surrendered, ¡°Unless your father has me executed, I am leaving after this. Mercy of dragons, everything is a mess already.¡± ¡°Everything?¡± Diana raised her green eyes in a sharp gesture. ¡°Is it the pixars?¡± ¡°No, well, it''s not just the pixars. No, things are changing Diana. And I am not sure what you will make of them.¡± Jorrel looked between her and the reception, his memory going through unsavory topics. ¡°Then tell me,¡± Diana demanded, ¡°now is as good a time as any.¡± ¡°You have just returned,¡± Jorrel refused. He noticed the plate had gone empty and picked it up. ¡°You go rest. I will cook us something and then we will talk.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Diana accepted, stretching her limbs and rising up. ¡°I will be in my room. Don¡¯t take too long though.¡± She climbed up the stairs while Jorrel entered the corridor behind the reception, making his way to the kitchen. About an hour later, Jorrel entered Diana¡¯s room with plates full of steaming buns and a sack of documents hanging by his shoulder. _____________ Notes- 1- City of Glass is an old epithet for Bizeon, almost as old as the Kingdom. Bizeon pioneered glassmaking in earliest days and continues to have some very good glassworkers. 2- "millenial cycle jumps from odd to odd scifers"- refer chap 14 verses. Celestial alignments vary with season (and a little with location). There are supposed to be five annual/seasonal celestial alignments. 2 in summer, 1 autumn, 1 in winter and 1 in spring. (A sixth is rumored to exist but not known well) Centennial cycle- The annual alignments are strongest every ~141 years Millennial cycle- Every 12th centennial cycle (1692 yrs) is supposed to represent the strongest off all centennial cycles. Last millennial cycle occurred ~scifer 25 Terran alignments vary with location only. There are said to be 8 terran alignments (elven knowledge). Shadows of Sik is one of those. I guess that clarifies things. If you have any more questions just ask. Let me also clarify a few things from earlier chaps, c14- Ray decides not to involve Boris when he says they''re better off without him. It''s the same decision Boris makes in c18 c14- when Diana talks about Wintersins she is indirectly telling Boris that some qualities are not noticed until the world turns harsh (wintersins are perennial but only noticed in winter) c18- Diana did not trade with Cleya for horses/supplies. She traded with Cleya for "silence". Cleya will not inform anyone of her (or by extension Boris''s involvement with the incident) This means news about Boris is kept secret and the King/counsels will not raise more doubts. Elaine has done the same. Her report to the King about Cultists in Laur never mentioned Diana/Boris. c17-18. Thea crawled out of her recess because she noticed Elaine was alive. Thea sung the winter''s lullaby after meeting up with the Hellhound, her father''s pet. I''m sorry I couldn''t show that. Lastly, this chapter was long and needs some edits to smooth it over. I might do that sometime. But the events won''t change (only description/dialogues maybe.) Boris will appear next chap. ___________________ Thanks for reading! Please leave behind your ratings/reviews/comments about what you liked/disliked about this chapter. You can upvote/downvote reviews to tell me which ones you consider relevant. Await the next chapter in a month!
Sorry something glitched and made it weird. Corrected the double post. ^^ 19-2. City of Glass I - Elves and exiles Please read spoiler before reading (First part of previous chap is new!) Spoiler : 1-CHANGE OF TERMS. Er, so I decided Templars was the wrong term to use for #reasons. Instead, they''re collectively called the Divine Hand and individually called the Halberds and Shields. Also, I edited a few terms in early chaps. So cylcops-->Titans. Vampires and Fiends added. Doesn''t affect much since I haven''t shown you the races. 2- CHAPTER EDITING- The first part of this chapter you have probably already read! A general problems with my chapters is that they get too long to read in one. So I want to reduce length and increase content. I am experimenting with that. Basically, The first part of previous chapter is new and the second part of this chapter is new. 19-2. City of Glass I - Elves and exiles As Jorrel expected, Diana was sitting and brooding instead of lying down. As she expected, he had brought more than just food. ¡°I am in no mood for work right now,¡± Diana rebuffed him. ¡°Are you ever?¡± Jorrel snorted. He pushed the mahogany desk towards her bed, placing the food and the sack with a soft thump. He snatched a jug, a wide brimmed glass vessel with a twisted belly, and conjured water into it. Then he laid the sack bare, pulling out a corded stack of parchment and letters for Diana. ¡°This ties in with what you want to know,¡± Jorrel explained while Diana ignored him and dug into the food. He frowned but they ate the meal in peace. ¡°So?¡± Diana asked while she wiped her mouth clean. ¡°This is your backlog,¡± Jorrel shifted the stack towards Diana and started cleaning up the table. ¡°We will talk after you''ve read and stamped and responded to these.¡± He waved his hands wide apart. ¡°All of these.¡± Diana hunched her shoulders. With begrudging effort, she loosened the cord and picked up the first letter. The silver-green envelope held the seal of Kwasther, one of the highest seats of Arkadia, woven into an intricate glyph. She pinched the seal and it drifted apart, the parchment rolling out in a two feet long block of dense Cylian scribble that made Diana cringe. Diana held the letter as far as she could from her face and shook it, hoping for some of that stiff writing to fall off. It didn''t. With a swift sleight of hand, Diana folded the letter back and turned to a disgruntled Jorrel in query. ¡°No use pushing it back, Jorrel,¡± she said, ¡°I know you''re trying to hide the issue by making me work but that''s not gonna work. Out with it.¡± Jorrel¡¯s glance ran up the thickness of documents and back to Diana¡¯s face, weighing her poor excuse. ¡°You''re not going to like what I speak once I start speaking,¡± he protested. ¡°Out with it.¡± ¡®Heavens spit on it, have it your way woman!¡¯ Jorrel poured himself a glass of water and wet his lips. ¡°The Inazi dug up a den of pixars in western Arkadia.¡± ¡°That''s bad,¡± Diana concurred, ¡°how many did we lose?¡± ¡°Fifty good elves for about twice the pixars,¡± Jorrel stated. ¡°Seems reasonable.¡± Diana had experienced worse. Her gaze dulled and regained itself. Indeed, the blood of elves was precious. And every drop spilled had its cost. But a hundred pixars had paid dearly for it. ¡°It was a blind labyrinth,¡± Jorrel continued, rubbing his knuckles, ¡°they crushed it with their own men still inside just to contain the outbreak.¡± ¡°¡­¡± Diana blinked. Her eyes prickled. She hated that. Killing your own kind. And from the twitch of Jorrel¡¯s ears, he knew, but continued nonetheless. ¡°Nearly eight centuries old, and abandoned. The Elders had a hard time remembering it.¡± ¡°...¡± Something clicked in Diana¡¯s mind. Old. Abandoned. Blind, only one entrance, inside Cylia. Someone knew of the labyrinths the Elders ignored. Knew of the labyrinths Cumaria had forgotten. Knew of legends long since buried. How? Who? Why? Spies? Exiles? Insiders? Where? ¡°And it lay within three hundred miles of Ilmaar,¡± Jorrel finished. ¡°!¡± Diana started out of her thoughts. She swallowed, fumbling with pieces of a puzzle that shattered. Ilmaar was their greatest bastion of defense. Ilmaar was their heart. ¡°They''re getting closer each year,¡± Jorrel lamented, ¡°Ilmaar isn''t as safe anymore.¡± ¡°This is really bad.¡± ¡°And that''s not the whole of it,¡± Jorrel sighed, giving her time to ponder. ¡°¡­.Carry on,¡± Diana insisted, her fingers steepled and eyes unblinking. Jorrel sighed again. ¡°Absolutely,¡± he said, scratching his thin stubble. ¡°Therawurd is quaking upon the ocean.¡± ¡°You don''t mean¡ª ¡°It may sink soon. In fact, if the Scourge hit it, it definitely will.¡± ¡°What are the Yorthal doing?¡± Diana frowned, scanning the stack of letters for an azure envelop with green fringes. There was none. She flicked her fingers through the stack next, intent on finding it. Jorrel put her hand to rest with a shake of his head. ¡°Asking for lands and relief,¡± he revealed. ¡°They want to migrate north. Across Arkadia.¡± Diana¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°But if Therawurd falls¡ª ¡°The southern currents will cut across the coast into Arkadia and freeze it over. All the plains and forests and hills will go down into ice and snow. Now you see?¡± Jorrel¡¯s face swung up to hers, he rubbed the scarlet ring on his left until it hissed and his ears swiveled. His eyes were hard now, piercing. ¡°Dragons have mercy.¡± ¡°Or worse yet, the Therawurd Rocklands might just pull a part of Arkadia along with them, and we will see our lands vanish before we see the Scourge gone.¡± Diana poured herself another glass and gulped. ¡°Tell me you have a thought about this,¡± she probed Jorrel. He shifted, scratching his nose. ¡°I don''t. Nor do the Yorthal.¡± Her head hunched and Diana concentrated. Jorrel was right. Landfalls had no solution. One could not fight an earthquake or a storm. The most they could do was, just¡ª ¡°...we still have the bells of Mook.¡± ¡°That''s the only thing we have at all,¡± Jorrel argued. ¡°We have to face it, Diana. Whether the Scourge come or not, sooner or later, for bad or worse, Therawurd will fall. And if the Eldership handles this poorly, well, the Infernal War will be the least of our troubles.¡± ¡°Beggar''s dreams...¡± ¡°Thorns to your thoughts, my lady. Do you think they will grow roses?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Diana retorted, ¡°I hope they will bloom like the Ka¡¯taar¡¯s ambitions.¡± Jorrel chuckled dourly. ¡°Speaking of which, the Ka''taar are growing restless again. They''re pressing for greater representation in the Eldership.¡± Diana brushed it away with a wave of hand. ¡°That''s nothing new.¡± Jorrel clasped his hands. ¡°Not if it comes with an implicit threat...¡± He swallowed. ¡°They''re considering Kingship again.¡± ¡°Nobody will recognize them.¡± ¡°Sumaria might.¡± ¡°We fought Sumaria not even a century ago, Jorrel,¡± Diana turned her head away and looked out her window, hoping to rid herself of this conversation, despite the fact that she started it. She disliked loose ends. They itched, made her want to dig deep. She had other concerns for the time being. What the Ka''taar did was none of her headache. ¡°Humans don''t live that long,¡± Jorrel said. ¡°Well neither does their forgiveness,¡± she spurned him. ¡°True,¡± Jorrel shrugged, ¡°But I do think they''ll choose to forgive the lesser of two enemies if it comes to war.¡± ¡°You think that...¡± Diana left the rest of her words hang in silence. ¡°I am not sure,¡± Jorrel replied with a pensive shake of his head, ¡°but we must be prepared for the worst, like always.¡± His ears swiveled and he rubbed his ring again. It hissed and he took a chug of water to calm. ¡°Well....¡± ¡°Well?¡± Jorrel raised his eyes. ¡°Is that all or you have something more to clobber my head with?¡± ¡°...that is all I''d say.¡± Jorrel stretched and pushed his chair back, raising himself. ¡°Fine.¡± Diana ordered him seated with her hand. ¡°Now while I cram my mind with all of this you need to think up a reason so I can enter Cylia.¡± ¡°Didn''t you already decide on that?¡± ¡°I did,¡± Diana grumbled. ¡°But my orders were to stay, observe and report back. They don''t want me back. Not yet.¡± ¡°So what, we''re fabricating an excuse?¡± Jorrel narrowed his eyes. ¡°No other way,¡± Diana answered. ¡°Are you pulling my ears?¡± Jorrel grimaced. ¡°I''m dead serious.¡± Diana shifted back on her bed but Jorrel grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. His grimace turned into a scowl. His will rumbled. ¡°Diana,¡± he said, ¡°do you remember what happened last time? When I faked that you caught the weeping fever?¡± A cringe ran up her lips as Diana remembered. ¡°Okay, stop going th¡ª But Jorrel had been lit up like firecracker. ¡°Your mother came to visit, Diana, your mother.¡± ¡°Jorrel stop.¡± ¡°Oh God,¡± he moaned, ¡°that woman is like you ten times over and demonized.¡± ¡°We promised we would not talk about¡ª ¡°She''s so, so excruciating. Stiff like a frozen winter log and dry like a summer-cracked bone in the desert. Almost makes me pity your father.¡± ¡°Are you done?¡± she hissed. ¡°You think?¡± he snarled. ¡°I had trouble sleeping for weeks after your mother visited. I lost my appetite. My hairs started to fall. My ears cracked up. I''d rather face the thrice damned Scourge than face your mother again.¡± ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Diana sighed. ¡°I''ll think up something myself. You and your weak-willed mind.¡± She waved him away with her hand but he stayed. ¡°Think of an excuse that does not¡ªin any way¡ªinvite your mother or your father over.¡± ¡°Yeah, I''ll keep that in my mind¡­¡± Diana decided. Jorrel was beginning to leave when she noticed a hint of gaudy gold stuck among the stack, buried between black and brown. She pulled it out to find an envelope laced with gold filigree and painted in rosy designs. ¡°Wait,¡± she called Jorrel, ¡°what''s this?¡± ¡°Your usual Ka''taar sycophancy,¡± Jorrel said, glaring arrows into the letter, ¡°laced with an adequate amount of poison and deceit.¡± Diana shook her head. ¡°Too extravagant for that.¡± She pinched the seal open and a fragrant smell wafted out. Jorrel squeezed his nostrils shut while Diana ran a cursory glance. The letter wore the same gold filigree and held rose-red letters inscribed with great delicacy. It was an invitation. ¡°What is this now,¡± Diana smiled, ¡°they''ve sent me an invitation...¡± she looked at Jorrel with surprise, ¡°to the Festival of Ahrune.¡± ¡°Those slimy slimes¡­¡± Jorrel cursed, taking a whiff of rose with a sneer of his lips. ¡°They want the Elders'' seats so bad they''ll take it through their own arse.¡± Diana paused, studying him and the letter. Her smile widened. Jorrel froze, noticing Diana''s puerile smile. His scowl hardened. Diana nodded. Jorrel shook his head frantically. ¡°Oh no, no, no,¡± Jorrel babbled, ¡°Don''t give me that, don''t, just don''t.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Diana shrugged. ¡°This seems like a good excuse to return.¡± ¡°They''re asking your hand in marriage for some... little pipsqueak?¡± Diana looked at the letter again. ¡°Rordain of Hemlays, Elderling to Elder of Kynara. The boy I met that one time, isn''t it?¡± ¡°Yeah, the pipsqueak that bawled his eyes out,¡± Jorrel recounted. ¡°That''s an uncouth way to put it,¡± Diana remarked. ¡°Wait till they come after you like half-starved raptors after a roasted belger,¡± Jorrel said, ears lowered and nose flaring. ¡°The Ka''taar never once give what they take Diana,¡± he pointed a finger, ¡°you know that well.¡± ¡°And they can''t take what isn''t theirs,¡± Diana replied. Jorrel paused, tongue struggling and face dour. ¡°You never learn,¡± he complained. ¡°I do. But sometimes, I want to teach instead.¡± ¡°Suit yourself, my lady.¡± He gave her one of his feigned bows and marched out, the empty dishes in his hand, then banged the door shut after him. Diana ignored his temper and settled back, turning to the work instead. Jorrel would calm down by the evening. He always did. For now, she needed to send a letter to Ilmaar and warn the Eldership. And hope. Hope for the best. Reluctantly, Diana pulled open a cabinet to find parchment, penbrushes and ink. She searched her desk for her stamp, the salt of Alun and the lacquer candles, all essentials to carve her seal. She loosened her hair, organized her desk, pressed the parchment down under a weight then went to take a bath with Jorrel frowning at her. Refreshed, Diana put her mind to the grind. She was stressing over how to word her concerns when the doorbell rang, a soft, musical chime that ran through the establishment. Visitors? She could spare some time for that. Down the marbled stairs, Diana expected Jorrel to be welcoming a guest. Instead, he forced the door against the visitor, trying to ram it shut. And failed. A cane jammed itself between the door and the frame, refusing to budge. ¡°I told you,¡± Jorrel snarled, ¡°now is not a good time.¡± ¡°I''ve been visiting for more than a month, Jorrel,¡± the visitor opposed. His voice was old but rigid. And annoying. ¡°She''s here, I know. A few moments of her time can''t hurt, can they?¡± ¡°Who''s there?¡± Diana enquired, her voice strict and unforgiving. Jorrel twirled in surprise and an old man walked in, shoving the door open. A spindly face rested on his broad shoulders. His hair had grayed but his eyes were firm. He limped towards the black runewood cane in his right while pulling a doubly knotted shawl back up his shoulders and noticed Diana. ¡°Pleasant winds upon your fate, Diana,¡± the old elf greeted with a weak twitch of his lips. Diana pursed her lips and glared at Jorrel before turning to the old man. ¡°Get out Urga¡¯thil.¡± Urga¡¯thil paused, tapping his cane at the marbled floor. ¡°I have a waited a long time, daughter of Silverdeens,¡± he said, his coal-black eyes simmering up, ¡°do me the favor of listening at least.¡± ¡°Your kind has no right to step into this hall, Urga¡¯thil,¡± Diana refused. ¡°This embassy is for Elves. Do me the favor of leaving before you force my will.¡± Urga¡¯thil kept his weak smile but softened his eyes. ¡°A cry of the weak knocks the heavens, my little one. No harm if it brushes past your ears, no matter the face it spills out of.¡± Diana crossed her arms. ¡°Don¡¯t try that on me, old man. I am long past your coercions and pretenses. If you have the slightest smidgen of self-respect left, you will leave. Where was your weakness when you abandoned Cylia? When you slapped your people in their faces?¡± Urga¡¯thil listened and heaved, then raised his head. His height was the same as Diana¡¯s but age weighed heavily upon him. He scratched his cane, unhurried, and spoke. ¡°Child of Silverdeens¡­ I am not a man who could forsake his family for his nation.¡± ¡°No,¡± Diana stressed. Her eyes narrowed and a scowl deepened on her face. ¡°You¡¯re just a man who forsook his family and his nation.¡± Urga¡¯thil frowned, lips quivering and eyes flickering, but his runewood cane never sparked with magic. His face went taut as he turned to Jorrel. ¡°I see what you meant,¡± the old man conceded. He turned and hobbled back towards the door. Once there, he cocked his head, shivering a little in the winter wind. Sunlight spun a halo around his hair and Urga''thil smiled sullenly. ¡°Perhaps,¡± he gestured at Diana while he pulled his blue shawl tight. ¡°Perhaps, you should think upon it. I hope there comes a time when we can see eye to eye, little one. And I hope it comes before my people perish. Farewell and fair winds upon your fate.¡± Jorrel watched him leave and shut the door. He walked past Diana and took a seat, never inviting her. ¡°Did I tell you I had a good mentor?¡± ¡°The exiles have no place here,¡± Diana replied in a rigid voice, slouching on the couch. The exiles, she needed to know what they had been up to. But not here. They did not belong here. ¡°The exiles have no place anywhere. They never did.¡± ¡°That is their just due,¡± Diana countered. Jorrel shook his head. ¡°His problems are real. This kingdom cannot help.¡± ¡°They chose this kingdom for themselves.¡± Jorrel thumped the table. ¡°What would you choose between love and death?¡± he asked, incensed. ¡°Sacrifice,¡± Diana suggested. Wide brown eyes faced off the sharp green of Diana''s. ¡°You never learn.¡± ¡°I do. But sometimes¡ª ¡°Spare me that.¡± Jorrel chuckled wryly, rubbing his ring. ¡°Farthin has lost the bell of Mook.¡± ¡°Is that what you were hiding?¡± Diana enquired, glancing at his ring. It glowered like a ball of fire. Angry. Disturbed. He had rubbed it thrice already. ¡°Elsana gave it away,¡± Jorrel huffed. ¡°She had no right to.¡± Jorrel¡¯s will expanded, whickered in annoyance and subsided. He held it in against his strained face. ¡°I don¡¯t care about her,¡± Jorrel said, ¡°It was her gift. Three of theirs have gone missing by now. She sought protection with the High Commander and the Legion. She lent her bell. The disappeared have not returned. Neither has their bell.¡± The scene of a dead elf resurfaced in Diana''s mind and she almost grit her teeth. Wavering between her choices, Diana rubbed her forehead. ¡°¡­Do I need to pay them a visit?¡± ¡°Do you?¡± Jorrel raised his ears. An exaggerated shrug of his shoulders followed. ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know. Surely we can skirt around Farthin on our way to Cylia? Maybe you can cut across the wastelands of Ley and add a month to our journey just for self-gratification.¡± ¡°I got it, Jorrel.¡± Diana put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll go. Just give me some time.¡± Jorrel nodded. A bit perturbed, he slipped his ring off and on again. ¡°All the time you need, my lady. We¡¯re on the schedule whenever you are.¡± Diana chuckled. ¡°Sometimes I wonder why I took you in.¡± Despite his face, Jorrel smiled. ¡°I am the best you could afford, my lady.¡± ¡°No,¡± Diana replied, her eyes sharp and unfailing. ¡°You are the best I could trust.¡± As Diana climbed back, the smile on Jorrel¡¯s lips faded but his eyes stalked her, mired by a breadth of emotions he suppressed. His chest tightened and his fingers rubbed the small, red gem on his ring once more. Softly, patiently. The ring cooled and faded to silence. ------------------------ Boris trundled behind Elaine with growing tiredness. Bizeon was large, and ridiculously complicated. They walked far from the main boulevard. Here, pathways rose and fell in spirals around buildings. Brick and wood houses huddled together in curious outlines of twisted alleys overlooking garbage-riddled vacant corners. Cold shadows delineated warm chimneys across drab walls. Somehow, Elaine seemed to be taking the more desolate route towards the Legion. ¡°Are you sure this is the right way?¡± he asked a third time since they left the boulevard. ¡°Yes,¡± Elaine answered. ¡°This is the shortest, least crowded route.¡± Boris grimaced. His feet were cold and heavy. His breath was steady, but not for much longer. ¡°That would also make this the most dangerous route,¡± he stated, hand rubbing the bow beneath his knapsack. Here in the cramped spaces, it would be all but useless. He could feel stares growing at his back. Like he was prey to be hunted. Swallowing, he forced himself to a pace matching Elaine''s. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Elaine swept a glance around. ¡°They know enough not to bother me.¡± ¡°Ah, that would be true,¡± Boris agreed with a grim smile. The stares seemed to dart off and on Elaine. It was curious, the way all stares did it so often. Elaine turned and something flitted by the red rooftop above. Boris paused, eyes following the blur to the alley beside. A clatter rattled the dank passage and his hand clutched the bow instinctively. Behind, he felt a deeper stare and whirled, one hand on the bulk of arrows, the other snatching his bow. The wind slowed, the noise dulled, his eyes honed in and an arrow was in his hand before he knew. Then he staggered, his bow catching the knapsack along a strap while he pulled it, and felt something brush his shoulder. His legs pumped and he leapt away, arrow pointed at the culprit like a spear. Elaine shook her head at the arrowhead, raising her hands then pointing them at a balcony hanging with clothes. A cat nestled itself against a billowing skirt, pawing its neck. Boris clucked his tongue. The furry creature yawned, then meowed at him. ¡°We are there almost, keep your head about you,¡± Elaine advised. Boris dulled his will and let it flow out. The place felt wrong, dangerous. ¡°Why do you take all these backways?¡± he asked. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s short. And it keeps me from the worse.¡± Elaine peered into the distance, somewhere between here and that glassy spire Elaine called the Spear of Gods. ¡°I sure don¡¯t want to know what the worse is,¡± Boris spat. ¡°Let¡¯s hope you don¡¯t.¡± Elaine led him up a small set of steps and the city grew alive again. A wide carpet of grass spread around a shaded well, the pulley squeaking in the wind against its axle. Buildings loomed in wide, ordered symmetry around it. Smithies for weapons and armor, establishments with woodworkers and glass-shapers, and sundry stores in narrow corners. Trying to evade the traffic of labourers, carts and wagons all carrying supplies, Boris bumped into a few warriors. They paid him no heed, seemingly intent on a shop or another, and spared a soft gesture at Elaine. The stink of their sweat mixed with a worse stench. Boris could not quite point its origin and the amalgamation of smells it contained was beyond reasoning. Scrunching his nose, Boris slapped his hood across it. ¡°The Worker¡¯s Square,¡± Elaine explained, ¡°it leads to the Legion Keep, the Irilean Guilds, the smithies and eastern labyrinths.¡± Some workers greeted her with wide smiles and she returned curtsies. ¡°Part of it is mined from the labyrinth itself but the rest comes on Thiraine or across the Needlewoods, or the Ley lands. The waste,¡± she added, studying his sour expression, ¡°gets drained into sewers. The Orders won''t let them dirty Thiraine, even if they do tolerate the boats.¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°How much farther?¡± Boris asked. ¡°Almost there,¡± Elaine shrugged. They climbed another set of stairs and the stench deepened. Boris frowned, his breath stinging, and peered over the low railing at the faint gurgle of water behind the Worker''s square below. Thick, squalid masses oozed through crude trenches, snaking across a slope east. He grimaced, pinching his nose shut. ¡°Where do you drain all that?¡± ¡°To the labyrinth eastward, into the endless depths.¡± Unconcerned, Elaine took them across another mesh of stench-ridden streets before they finally turned north, through mouth-watering smells of cooked food, and up the incline to where the Legion''s Keep lay. It was a shallow mound, far too wide for its height, with thick walls around an uneven circumference. Scattered around it, in between the sparse green of pointed trees, were half-buried chunks of stony ramparts that forced the boundary crooked. A man or two appeared on walls, watching the surroundings at leisure. The faded green beside the walls gave way to a cobblestoned street, dotted with sparse trees on either side and ending in a wide gated entrance. Crisp leaves crunched under his boots as Boris accompanied Elaine to the guards beside the entrance. At first sight they froze, and Boris realized they were standing attention. Then they bowed, a fist at their chest and an arm on their hilts. ¡°The light hail your return, sister,¡± first among the guards greeted. He wore a steel cap with the visor raised and his left shoulder displayed the number thirteen in red on a spotless white device. Elaine nodded back and the guards snapped back into attention. ¡°The light defend your peace, brothers and sisters.¡± She pulled Boris forward. ¡°He will come with me.¡± Her voice was nonchalant. Sharp gazes flitted across Boris for the first time, then ignored him. As if he were of no concern. ¡°A trainee?¡± another guard asked. ¡°A visitor,¡± Elaine replied, ¡°seeking refuge before he moves on.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± the guard answered and turned to Boris. ¡°Welcome to the Legion of Light, young one. I pray your stay is pleasant and your journey peaceful.¡± ¡°Yours too,¡± Boris responded with half a mind. The puzzled looks the guards gave him did not register. A rumble rose from his stomach in reply. Someone chuckled and Boris hid his abdomen in hurry. It rumbled again. ¡°Before I forget,¡± one of the guards addressed Elaine with a wry smile. ¡°Brother Fraust instructed us to send you to him, sister Sithe.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Elaine replied, studied an embarrassed Boris, then turned back, ¡°Did he say it was urgent?¡± she asked. ¡°He requested the first building you step in to be his office.¡± Elaine sighed. ¡°As he wishes. I think you better come with me,¡± she told Boris, ¡°but if you want,¡± she left her words unfinished. ¡°I''ll come with you,¡± Boris whispered back. ¡°Good.¡± Elaine rummaged through her bundles to retrieve the Scepter of Light and one of the guards offered to help with her load. She refused and pulled Boris along, leaving as the guards resumed their watch. The cobblestones turned to dirt tracks overlooking a wide field where sweating men and women practiced combat drills. Strident shouts rang in the air and cane-bearing instructors warned heaving trainees to stand on their feet or starve the rest of the day. Wooden weapons thwacked against each other and though bruised, none of the trainees appeared terrified to death. Or hungry. ¡°They sure have it easy,¡± Boris spat and Elaine gave him the look of disbelief. ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m not accusing you, or them. It¡¯s just¡­ not compelling enough.¡± Inside he sneered, ¡®Give them a day with Diana and I bet they¡¯d run like hounds and fight like bulls.¡¯ Elaine smiled. ¡°The trainees do most of the menial work here. Dishes, laundry, dusting, sweeping. It would not do if we broke them before the night came.¡± Boris changed the look in his eyes from envy to pity, then apprehension. ¡°I don¡¯t have to do that, do I?¡± ¡°Not unless you want to.¡± Shouts faded into noise as they launched into the main Keep. A network of low towers and square buildings stood connected by shaded pavements. Skywalks arched between the larger establishments at angles. The widest pavement cut straight and jerked a sharp left into a corridor towards a pearl white tower. A few times they passed other ¡°brothers and sisters¡± with silent greetings, until finally a wide stony porch with benches and pruned trees opened into the pearl white tower. Instead of stepping right in, Elaine took a spiral corridor around the tower to the first landing and into a hall with imposing doors on all sides. ¡°You''ll stay outside,¡± she warned Boris. ¡°And keep quiet, even in greeting. And if called and asked about it, I picked you up and brought you here from Velur. You won''t mention the heroes or the capital and especially not the demons. The less you speak the better. Do you understand?¡± Tired, Boris gestured his understanding. ¡°Yes, good, that way,¡± Elaine replied. She eyed a polished door to the left and knocked thrice. ¡°Come in,¡± a voice answered and Elaine entered, holding the Scepter. Sygen Fraust''s office was a simple affair, with one side packed full with cabinets and shelves. The distant end held a granite mantelpiece, displaying a white banner with Legion¡¯s emblem upon it. It sported a red sun resting on the hilt of a sword, both wrapped in black leaves. The fireplace crackled in a low hum below the mantelpiece. Elaine turned left to face Fraust, stuck between two large stacks of documents and scribbling furiously. Finished, Fraust took a moment to crack his knuckles and look up at Elaine. His ink-smudged knuckles whitened from squeezing and his eyes twitched. He stood up, bowed a greeting and requested her seated. Elaine acquiesced. Rubbing his hands for warmth, Fraust considered Elaine''s face for a moment. There was no hint of tiredness there. ¡°You seem fit as ever,¡± he said, wiping his hands on a cloth and shifting the stack to clear his table. ¡°Would you like tea?¡± His voice carried a mix of stern discipline and soft respect, but the twitch of strained eyes betrayed tension. Tension did not suit a man his age and position. ¡°I would like some rest,¡± Elaine replied, ¡°after you explain the urgent matter you needed me for.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Fraust nodded, brushing the grey flecks of his hair with rough hands. ¡°I would have liked to deal with this slowly but since...¡± he scratched his hard jaw, ¡°The Circle will be meeting soon, sister. You''re in trouble.¡± ¡°Explain,¡± Elaine ordered. Fraust scratched the finished as he studied her unruffled face. ¡°There have been some objections raised against you.¡± Elaine gave a dry chuckle. ¡°Gwyna''s admirers no doubt. What wouldn''t they give to swaddle their doll in scarlet and give her the Scepter of Light. That doesn''t give them the right to call the Circle though.¡± ¡°It''s more than that this time. The Keepers sent word of disapproval.¡± ¡°The Keepers put me here, brother. They wanted me to hold the Scepter of Light, I merely agreed. If something did not go the way they wanted, it is their fault, I did what I must.¡± Elaine¡¯s voice had a challenging edge, one that expected agreement. Fraust gave a grim smile. ¡°...They say you failed. We put you up to the king, Elaine,¡± he clasped his fingers, ¡°but for the obvious fact that he respects you. You lived in the capital, talked with the royalty. You attended the summoning ceremony. For what purpose?¡± his eyes hardened. ¡°What did you do?¡± It occurred to Elaine that he was probing her, but that was what his station required and his habit assumed. Sygen Fraust was the Mediator among the Solarchs, the first ranked Legionnaires. His office managed the relations of the Legion with the kingdom, and when necessary, internal disputes among other Solarchs. Elaine would as soon budge to his stern voice as she would to a lamb bleating. Adjusting her hair above her ears, Elaine said, ¡°I did my duty. I taught the heroes what they needed. I accompanied them as far as I must, even though the king never asked it of me. I took my decisions. Every Solarch has the freedom to do so.¡± ¡°Do you not understand your position?¡± Fraust¡¯s voice turned harsher. ¡°The Maiden of Light represents the Legion.¡± Elaine gave him an incisive glare. ¡°I am not an idol to parade around, brother.¡± ¡°No,¡± Fraust receded, ¡°well, you say you did your duty? So be it,¡± he scratched his jaw. ¡°Better be prepared to justify that, sister. The Circle meets in three days. There''s not much I can do this time, I am afraid. And please, keep your temper in control. Half of us are against this,¡± his eyes ran across the floor, ¡°think of us.¡± ¡°You want me removed,¡± Elaine realized. Her eyes fluttered for a moment but she reined herself in and pulled her face flat, emotionless. Fraust scratched the letter sitting in one corner again, trying to delay the inevitable. She waited, letting him grow uneasy. ¡°...Some do,¡± he finally let out. ¡°I''ll do what I can, but it''ll be difficult this time. With Branwere gone, there''s a hole in our side.¡± ¡°I did not hear of this,¡± Elaine informed him, lips pursed. ¡°You would have, had you stayed with the heroes. I hear the heroes are back at the castle while you pop up here and there with demons and cultists. I honestly have no idea what you''re trying to do. Even the reports I receive are so vague.¡± Elaine shoved Fraust¡¯s excuse out of her mind. The man was growing lax, she decided, despite his stern exterior. ¡°What happened to Branwere?¡± she asked. ¡°Dead.¡± ¡°You fools,¡± Elaine hissed, squeezing the Scepter. Branwere was a good man, honest and worthy. ¡°How many times did I order you not to take it too far? The Legion simply needs to survive. These wars will never end Sygen, not until a worse war begins and a worse still takes its place. You could bring half the armies of the world and they¡¯d butcher each other and start over. Until the world ends,¡± her voice dipped into a whisper, ¡°We are not here to win each war. We¡¯re here to... you of all people should learn that.¡± ¡°I try, sister,¡± Sygen grated. ¡°Being passive has only earned us insults and allegations, from our own side even. The Keepers sent word too.¡± Elaine struggled against clenching her jaw. It was always the Keepers. In their effort to keep the Legion united and do whatever it was they considered first priority, they sacrificed too much. Sitting there in their Tower of The Seal, unaware of the real turmoil, trading casualties for results, calculating losses and distributing opinions, not knowing that the war never ended at the frontier. The war never ended. Never would, if the world continued its way. And by the time the Keepers understood this, they would be dust in the pages of history. ¡°Being passive earned us tactical advantage, fewer casualties and more recruits. We''re standing here alive thousands of us because I stilled the tide of war. As for the Keepers, they say what they want. A Solarch makes independent decisions on the field. The Keepers adjust to us.¡± ¡°It had been that way indeed,¡± Sygen nodded. ¡°After you took Gallanghar, very few dared to oppose you. It''s been a long time since. Things change... our losses have increased. We can''t always disobey the Keepers'' word, it tightens like a noose around our neck. Sometimes I think that is why they wanted you¡ª ¡°Don''t say that, brother. I would not have taken this,¡± Elaine held the Scepter to light, ¡°if I had a choice.¡± ¡°Be that as it may, your place is no longer at the frontier. Even here, the Solarchs grow impatient. The Infernal War comes, the Keepers expect results, the kingdom expects help and our brothers expect returns. Yet we stand here doing nothing.¡± Elaine narrowed her eyes and Sygen continued, ¡°I expected you''d bring the heroes. There''s only so much I can manage alone. If you''d just done what I expected, we''d be ready, we''d have a place without appeasing the kingdom and their Orders and their guilds,¡± Sygen bent over, supporting his chin on clasped hands, ¡°why did you not?¡± Elaine shrugged. ¡°Do not hold me to your expectations so stiffly. When the Infernal war does come, if it comes, we will have our place in it. The Legion does not need heroes to survive. It never did.¡± ¡°Then why did we send you to Orin?¡± Fraust responded. ¡°I vouched for you Elaine, yet here you are, back, with allegations to remove you and nothing to show in return.¡± ¡°Nothing?¡± Elaine arched her brow. ¡°You have reports on Cultists and their nefarious plans, you have reports on heroes, you have reports on demons that none expected. Be clear on what the Circle expected in return.¡± ¡°There is going to be a gathering at the Orin castle soon,¡± Sygen said, ¡°in the honor of heroes. Surely you know of that?¡± ¡°I have not been informed.¡± ¡°Half the nobles have been invited,¡± Sygen explained. ¡°The High Lords, the High Commanders, the Guild Meisters and even the Archpriests. No mention of the Legion, it''s as if we do not belong. We are their people fighting their war for them. But for one person who was invited to the summoning and refused to play her part well, we could have been holding that gathering here. Even Gwyna could have gotten us invited.¡± There was accusation in his voice that stung Elaine. She always knew why some of the Circle agreed to her attending the summoning but she did not think Sygen to be the same. ¡°Are you going to pander to the nobles and their politics now?¡± Elaine diverted the issue. ¡°Are you going to deny the failure on your part sister?¡± Sygen impressed. ¡°People follow you, admire you and stand for you. Three young heroes, ready to join the Infernal War, yet they do not join the one side that pursues their same ideal since time immemorial.¡± The accusation burned Elaine and she scowled for the first time, causing Sygen to flinch. ¡°I said we do not need heroes, brother,¡± she glowered, ¡°and no matter how you cut it,¡± her voice rasped like a sword on its sheath, ¡°I will not seduce them.¡± Sygen exhaled exasperatedly and slumped back, drumming his fingers on the table. ¡°The way you put it,¡± he raised a hand, ¡°it¡¯s the way you put it. Forming a rapport with the heroes is not the same as- that. I would never think those words were yours.¡± ¡°You should,¡± Elaine crossed her arms. ¡°I''ll bet no one expected two of the heroes to be females, much less to be in love with the third. Some would have wanted a gallant Defender of Light, else. There are things we''re better off not meddling in, brother, trust me. It never brings anything good, meddling with heroes.¡± ¡°Then I won''t say anymore. Just be prepared to explain it all to the Circle.¡± Sygen folded the letter in the corner, placing a pebble upon it. ¡°I will.¡± Elaine rose to leave, then remembered the reason she decided to visit him. ¡°What happened to the Bell of Mook? The one I requested of the Keepers,¡± she enquired. ¡°To replace the one at Farthin?¡± Sygen rubbed his chin in thought. ¡°They dispatched it but it hasn¡¯t arrived. Maybe you should send a messenger to Farthin?¡± ¡°Where is the merchant?¡± Elaine frowned. ¡°He¡¯s supposed to pass by Bizeon about now.¡± Sygen shook his head in denial. ¡°He should be coming soon.¡± ¡°Let me know when he comes.¡± With a sour mind, Elaine left the room, never bothering to look at the letter Sygen kept in the corner. The letter was a response to serious allegations against the Maiden of Light¡ªallegations that framed her for indiscriminate murder and possible conspiracy. Sygen sighed and ripped the letter to shreds as Elaine shut the door before him. ¡°I really hope you¡¯re prepared, sister,¡± he told the air. ¡°The Circle is merciless.¡± Outside, Boris still waited his place with face low and knapsack beside. Beneath his childish demeanor, Elaine saw a boy stubborn beyond reason, following one thing and yearning after another. She squeezed her fists and let the anger recede. She lost. Things were slipping from her grasp. Like a handful of sand, a voice taunted. She stubbed it and formed a smile on her face, billowing anger through her will. Boris shuddered and made a hasty grab for his knapsack. ¡°I did not speak a word,¡± he said. ¡°No one asked me anything.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Elaine answered. ¡°Let''s get you to your quarters, if you want to stay.¡± In rapid strides, she took a path towards the trainee quarters, Boris hurrying behind. _____________________ Notes- 1- Aldaan, Ka''taar, Yorthal and Inazi are subraces of elves. No, humans don''t have any subrace. Yes, there''s a reason. No, I won''t tell. 2- Elkeen is a very misunderstood term. Humans confuse Elkeen with Aldaan and residents of Ilmaar. Elkeen is the structure/system of governance formed under the philosophy of one Faar''la-Kin. Eldership stands at it''s centre. You can think of them as Elven bureaucrats for now. 3-Ilmaar is the capital province of Cylia. Most Aldaans are residents of Ilmaar. Arkadia is the largest province of Cylia. 4-
Quote:¡°Child of Silverdeens¡­ I am not a man who could forsake his family for his nation.¡± ¡°No. You¡¯re just a man who forsook his family and his nation.¡±
Refer to ch3 verses. Elves are proud of their blood. Any elf that marries outside of his race is exiled, without a choice. If they want to go back, they must leave the family they married behind (spouse/children/etc) If they bring their family back, they and their family are punished (and sometimes, executed- "What choice is there between love and death?" "Sacrifice") In Urga''thil''s mind his family is the one he married in In Diana''s mind, his family comprises the parents he abandoned Elves refer to themselves and others often as belonging to their families- ''Diana of Silverdeens'' ''Child of Yeralds'' 5- Almost forgot, the intrinsic part of will depends mainly on two things -inheritance (parents) and upbringing (the early/formative years of your life) Diana was raised very strictly. Her will is an expression of courage and a keen desire for freedom. Jorrel''s will is a result of bitter childhood. It represents his desire to vent. What does Elaine''s will represent? 6- Elves do not drink alchohol. They avoid it like a plague (with some exceptions). The thing is, anyone with a strong will is more prone to affect of depressants/sedative-hypnotics/anticonvulsants/psychotropic/psychedelic/etc. basically, substances affecting the mind work very strongly upon them. The effect is less pronounced with scythians. Usually, a glass of wine is enough to send an elf unconscious (or rarely comatose or even dead). Even otherwise, a drunk elf is as dangerous as a moonstruck elf and often turns into one. This is ironical because most distillation techniques for alchohol were probably created by elves. They use it for three purposes- alchemy, poison and export (to dwarves/humans/etc) 7- Landfalls- a disaster where a piece of land splits off and often falls into the ocean. The cliffs of Marbess (c10-11) were formed this way. The "otherside" of Shadows of Sik (map, c14) used to be larger and sunk. The Spines of Sik (c1) were once peaks that connected the Shadows of Sik with the Widow''s Peaks, they sunk into the Anatheim Sea and are a big reason for how dangerous it has become. 8- Solarch. Legionnaires are ranked by numbers and posts. Solarch is the highest rank a Legionnaire can possess. Elaine is a Solarch and the Maiden of Light. Because the Legion of Light functions as partially decentralized, all Solarchs can be considered leaders. 9- Keepers (of The Seal of Light). The advisory body of the Legion that serves to maintain communication between Legion factions in different places and nations. It also allows the trade of the Bell of Mook (a very rare product as you will see.) from special dwarven forges to other nations. 10-Minor fact. Diana can be written as Dyana or Daena, it sounds more as a mix of all three than any one. Similarly, Jorrel can be written as Shorrel or Zorrel, it sounds somewhere in between all of these. Urga''thil and Elsana are pretty much correct as it is. I mostly want to shorten the chapters and make them very fast to read. I am still struggling with that. I want individual chaps to be under 5.5k. Don''t worry about content, another chapter (or more, hopefully) should come soon. They''re in works. Leave feedback about the current chapter length and flow. Thanks. RL strikes again! There have been a lot of black crows flying around my house these days. I have a premonition that some blackish is about to happen and thus I have locked myself in an underground shelter to save my self from the upcoming nuclear apocalypse that these crows have whispered to me. Since I don''t command the power of will like my mc i will use these mortal instruments to save my life. IN SHORT "NO UPDATES FOR NEXT SEVERAL MONTHS.. hahahaha(evil smirk). [Real reason: New job, moving out and 18-20hr work, no weekends, happens in my profession, is actually enjoyable though, Really sorry for raising your hopes, still writing but barely enough time to give finishing touch to next three chaps, won''t release unedited, wish me luck. I really, really, really want to write but life isn''t permitting. I will keep coming back to post any chapters I can but again, I have to focus more on my RL. Maybe when it is stabler...] A bit of spoiler: The story is not unplanned. Proof is in prologue. The six verses describe the premise. Part 1 (The Demise) describes the dark undertone and introduces the letter that ties the whole story together. Part 2 (Repeating cliche) introduces the snarky overtone and the summoning glyph that ties whole volume 1 together. Almost everything I have shown you till now (and will show you) relates to the summoning glyph. SORRY!!