《Book One: The Blade Of Anai》 Prologue: The Pact Of Stone And Fire Kalevi scaled the rocky ridge gripping one loose stone after another, the hilt of his Koba filled his mouth with the taste of leather and tar. The sword''s orange blade shone in the rising sun and made him squint. That blade had been blessed and passed down to him, carried by his grandfather in the war against the Kretna¡¯marud, carried by his father against the giants, and now it will be carried by him against a new enemy. And Kalevi, like his father and fathers father, knew he would win. Step, catch, step, catch, catch. Every inch up drew out more and more memory. His first Sisu¨Cthe taste of the smoke almost manifested in his mouth. From the blackwood bark, the berries, the leaves, the bitter taste. It had been two long seasons since he¡¯d sat with his father at the Sisu. Since the war had stolen more than just tradition. He was 14 then. Awestruck by the visions the Sisu had given him. Now 20 years old. Step, catch. The Earthsong walk¨Cthe first time he¡¯d touched an elephant''s warm, strong skin. Their steps were like thunder as they walked the land in mass. Hundreds. Thousands. That was also the first time he¡¯d met his wife. Her shining smile froze the young prince in place. Her laugh cleared the skies. Her eyes held all of Galeenes'' waters in their depths. He held that memory of her deep in his heart. Catch, step, catch. Then the fires came. The Shindaris'' evil, glowing golden eyes conjured fire, setting Kalevis'' world ablaze. Outposts. Homes. Forests. The skies themselves were not safe. He nearly choked on the sour smell of burning flesh and hair. And the black smoke. His father, stricken with the black leg sickness, stood and defended their home. But Kalevi returned too late. His fathers body, kneeling. Lifeless. Right on the threshold of their family home how collapsed in smoke. His wife- his wife. The years had stolen much from Kalevi, recollection was not one of them. Kalevi bit down on the leather until his jaw cramped. Dishonor. The words echoed with every step. He should have been there, He was their leader, he should have died with them. A sting swarmed in his chest and he pushed those thoughts aside. If Kalevi would die today it would be dishonorable to those who fell before him. With the final stone beneath his feet he arrived at the ridges peak overlooking the bloody battlefield. He took one breath and swallowed his fear before turning back to the ridge where his people climbed behind him. Scads of orange heads looked up at him with anticipation from below. He reached his arm to them. One after another. After another. Planters, hunters, the cage master and his sons, whores and mothers. Every person that touched his hands, he knew them. Some he¡¯d known since his days of sitting in at his fathers courts as a young boy, others he¡¯d welcomed himself in his fathers stead. But now he was their leader, and like his father he would lay down his own life to see that their people were free. No matter the cost. On the ground, his brother led their soldiers in the face of the enemy. Glistening orange spears and swords clashed in sparks as they ripped through the Shendari forces, shredding iron and armor. Anai, Kalevis older brother, was a great leader and an even better warrior. Far better than himself. If it hadn''t been tradition for his father to choose the next leader Kalevi would have gladly followed his brother to war. Anai blitzed forward, clashing blades with a bulky dark eyed man covered in black and green painted armor. He glanced up the ridge at Kalevi and smiled. The enemy took his opportunity and stepped into Anais'' guard attempting to headbut the prince. But he simply danced around the enemy, letting the momentum carry him. Anai shifted his guard behind his head and waited. When the enemy went for a slash Anai parried, sending sparks of silver dust into the sky. His Koba rang with magical energy. In a moment it shifted from silver to green and Anai dashed to the side, then the blade shifted a soft white as he slashed down with trembling speed, then just before he struck the blade''s color shifted back to silver and a thunderous wave of slashes roared out. One after another. Shards of black and green armor coated in red were flung with the slashes until the enemy was bare, flayed, and humiliated. With just enough strength to stand the enemy wailed and stumbled back to their war party. Kalevi was utterly mystified by his brother''s magical power. A better leader, a better warrior. A better mage, nearly as good as their father. His envy soon turned to praise as Anais'' soldiers cheered, rapping their weapons to their golden pieces. Kalevi put his sword to his lips and roared to his brother and Anai did the same. Kalevis men all fell down the lines and gathered in formation with Anais. Some younger, more eager lot pursued the enemy as they ran, while Kalevi reunited with his brother. ¡°They retreat once again, thanks to you brother.¡± Kalevi said, reaching for his brother''s hand, but it was never met. Instead Anai looked to the sky then back down to the fleeing army. ¡°I feel that something is wrong here.¡± Anai said. ¡°What do you mean, the soldiers Shedari are retreating?¡± ¡°The Shendari are cowards. Yes. But they are also sensible.¡± ¡°The Shendari broke the pact of stone and fire. The Shendari joined forces with their most hated adversaries. The Shendari started a war with us.¡± Kalevi argued. ¡°If anyone were sensible it could not possibly be them.¡± For the first time Anai looked directly at his brother. His deep brown eyes held compassion for his little brother, but Kalevi could also sense the rage behind the curtain. He scratched his head and then; ¡°Your experience dims your intelligence, brother. I have lived among the Shendari. I have seen them plot and maneuver.¡± Anai pointed to the bodies that were being moved from the field. Hundreds of light eyed Shendari, now dead. As it should be. ¡°What did father say? A good leader is calculated, considerate, capable, and Charismatic. I don''t see that in sending a hundred men to their deaths.¡± Kalevi sighed. ¡°So maybe our father was wrong.¡± ¡°Father was never wrong.¡± Anais'' words came out as flat as a board. When their father spoke Kalevi was attentive but his brother was dogmatic. Anai made it a habit to eat, sleep, and shit their fathers words, sometimes spouting them back to Kalevi in arguments until they were both blue in the face. He held their father like a God. A guiding star.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Kalevi chuckled. ¡°Well then, you must be a terrible leader or an absolute genius.¡± Anai chuckled then pointed to the horizon. ¡°We will see soon enough.¡± Over the hills, across the land bridge that connected their lands to one another charged 3 monstrous beasts. A fleet of Great Giants clad in massive, thick plates of armor. Their legs were fully covered to the knee. The backs were stacked with plates, man carriers, and weapons. And their heads sat squished in little bell-shaped helms. It was a miracle for them the giants could even see otherwise Kalevi wondered who the battle would be more difficult for. The man carriers held only 1 man on each giant. Then men calmly climbed down from the giants and waited. Kalevi leaned to his brother. ¡°Just 3 men?¡± ¡°Those aren''t just men. The Shendari magic is far different from ours. Those men are Luminaries.¡± One giant reached behind him and pulled out a long green and black flag and stabbed it into the ground while the others roared and charged forward. Their armies were clearly shaken as those too far forward to retreat were stomped to dust yet they charged forward anyways. Anai tried to yell through the roars and stomping but couldn''t muster enough power, with nothing left he charged forward too. His koba flickering from white to green to red to white again. They advanced, wiping out most of Kalevis troops in just a few swings of their clubs. The Giants roared once more, the massive makeshift helms covering their heads rippled with power. It was a bloodbath. Pain rose in Kalevi¡¯s Eyes. His nation was in danger once again. An attack neither he nor his brother saw coming; and yet he stood there while everyone else fought on his behalf. He wouldn''t let this be the end for his people. Kalevi opened his mouth, breathing in as much magic as his lungs could hold. He felt the burn in his lungs, his eyes, his fingers as the magic coursed through him like blood. Then, in a single second, the blade drew a scarlet red being slashed across the air sending a wave of fire crashing into the Great Giants helms. They spazzed, attempting to get the helmets off of themselves, shoving each other in the process. One managed to get its helm off before being shoved into the waters. Another tried his hardest but the heat eventually roasted his head and the giant collapsed, tripping the other who fell to his back and was immediately piled by soldiers all taking a stab at the giant. Anai looked back to his brother and smiled. ¡°Impressive!¡± He yelled. ¡°You may have taken a bit of my hair but I¡¯ll forgive you.¡± ¡°Well it was thanks to-¡± His appreciation was cut short by the screams of their people as the ones that attacked the giant were being beamed to death by rays of light. Each one that found a target instant burned through and left a flaming hole in its wake. On the other side, one of the Luminaries held his hands to the sky and bent them and as he did the beams cascaded forward towards the brothers but stopped just short. ¡°What are you doing?¡± One Luminary yelled as the other collapsed, face first into the soil. ¡°Iokua. . . I dont think his body could handle that spell.¡± The other Luminary said. Iokua said nothing in response, instead stepping forwards and stopping in the middle of the now battered land bridge. He seemed to make an effort to step on the heads of their fallen people as he made his way. Kalevi could see the man more clearly now and went forward to meet him. He had long deep black hair like the Great giants. He was tall, freakishly tall. His green and white robes and cape were nearly blinding in the midday sun. He had a long nose and sunken eyes like a boar waiting to bloody its tusks. The other was still too far to tell but it seemed to be a woman. ¡°So, are you dogs ready to surrender?¡± Iokua spoke so nonchalantly to them it called for pause. ¡°This battle isn''t over scum. You and your people-¡± Kalevi said. ¡°Me and my people want nothing more than to go home.¡± ¡°Then leave.¡± Anai said. ¡°Call it a loss and leave.¡± Iokua just smiled, and then; ¡°I''m afraid that''s impossible. See I can''t lose.¡± He said and raised his hand to the sky. Anai instinctually took a quick breath and dashed for his throat. Suddenly, all at once, Anais¡¯ koba clashed with what looked like a dazzling iridescent field around Iokua. The field then exploded, sending Anai and I flying back off the land bridge. Anai had been knocked down and severely burned. I took a deep breath and attempted to get the pain off but it felt like it was never ending. Then he let his hand down. And like a giant veil the sky became blanketed by flaming arrows. Millions more than Kalevi had seen his entire life were beginning their descent on him. He knew he needed to act fast but the situation was nearly inescapable. He checked for his brother, grabbing hold of him and running. He leapt to his feet and took off. With each step Anai let out a cry. If he could make it to the taller trees they''d be safe, his people were already dead, but if he could regroup with the rest back home they might be able to come up with a strategy. But soon like rain, a fast pitter patter of arrows chased him down. He took a deep breath and lept behind a tree, not fast enough as an arrow clept his leg and he went falling to the ground. For what felt like minutes upon minutes the sound of falling arrows and spreading flame took over his ears. Kalevi thought back. It was nothing but a lost cause. We¡¯ve been doomed since fathers death. Look how fast we¡¯ve fallen Anai. Everyone, all those that came and fought for us. We were just leading them to death. Anai had fully passed out from the fall, but for the most part was still breathing. Kalevi let out a sigh of relief before wincing in pain. As he looked down he''d finally noticed the river of blood running from his leg down the rocky terrain. And with no shaman nearby he and his brother would fall to their wounds in a matter of minutes. If they were not found by the Luminaries first. With nothing left in his head he thought. What would you do, Anai? A moment later he was holding the sword to his chest. When the boys were young their father, out of fear, taught them every magical ability he''d learned from studying the blade. And now that they were out of options he figured it was only fitting. Now he could barely take in a deep enough breath to sustain the color change, so he licked his lips and forced one more breath, this time changing the blade''s color to black. The forbidden color. ¡°You really were a better leader than I, Anai. Hopefully with this you and our people can live on. I''m sorry you can''t say goodbye brother.¡± And as the blade flung through his chest and into the tree behind him, Kalevi thought again. It was strange, as much as he thought he would, he didn''t miss a lot of things. Not the Sisu, not the Earthsong walk, not warm meat or fresh baths, or friendly smiles. He simply thought of his mother, his father, his wife, and his brother. Then he wasn''t thinking anymore. Prelude The world almost seemed to rage with storms. The sky was an ominous black blanketed by rain and lightning and wind, and the moons hung low behind. The air itself seemed desperate to tell a tale, loud, murderous, and melancholic. Most were trying to not be swept away with their homes. But not Zailithar. No, Zailithar was a madman. His mind had gone long ago and so did his respect. But on this night it was as if the Gods spoke through the storm and ate away at what was left of his mind. The madman scribbled illegibly until scribbles became a dark tale that would gouge itself into history: ¡°On the set of the sun season, when the 3 sisters dance together in the bright sky, and the sky bleeds with a mournful blue. When the lands rise and fall, and the folds wide and red spill forth anew, A blade will rise to separate magic from man. Eat away the soul from flesh. Its touch will break the bonds of the mind and forge the living and the dead. Its wielder shall be crowned in sadness. Beware the one who wields it for their allies and enemies will fall. And he will carve the fate of all kingdoms and the doom for all who stand in his path. Seven hands turn the key, and what is locked shall never rest until all hearts are set ablaze.¡± The prophets'' screams echoed throughout the night like a forgotten spirit only stopping with the storm as he took his own life. Those who read the prophecy claimed it was no mere fairytale but a warning torn from the mind of a man of a blade as powerful as the gods themselves thrust down as punishment by an unknown force. The blade with no name. The prophecy took off like a swarm of locusts infecting the minds of all who were cursed to know and eating away at their thoughts. Bleeding into dreams of children and fantasies of men. For centuries the blade with no names very existence was a stain, a devil manipulating the world in quest. Scholars holy men wrote their lives in ink riddled books and codices hoping to find answers, solutions. Warriors traveled far and wide, those that returned moved as if what was in every man had left them out of fear as they sputtered soft warnings and chased death. Most did not return at all. And thus birthed the Madness Seekers. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. But regardless of the man''s fears the moons still move ever closer like a silent promenade. Their soft shadows dance across the land. The Prophet¡¯s words held firm: the one destined to wield the blade would rise not from power, but from despair. A child of ash and ruin, whose path would be carved by grief and betrayal. Somewhere, in the vast and unforgiving lands of Galeene, a boy¡¯s fate had already been written¡ªa fate bound to a blade that waited in silence. A curse unfulfilled. Its thirst unquenched. The Blade of Anai waits. I: A PLACE Nearly 432 years later The denizens of the future regard the mercenaries of Kaur as innocent fools inculpable in their demise¨Cfor how could they know what a curse the orphan boy with orange hair who lay cramped in their wagon eating of their rations would become? The boy sat hunched on the wagon''s edge, knees to his cheeks gnawing on a piece of dried meat. His orange hair shone a mystical glow in the firelight as it dangled down to his ankles. Food at last. His mind was an empty bed and each thought was a bird stopping by for shelter before quickly flying away into the nothingness. He had barely taken note of the celebration going on around him¨CThe whistling drunkenness of the songs the mercenaries sang, the jovial cheers and bickering of red faced Shindari men, and the claps and rhythmic drumming of hands to logs. It all seemed like static noise to Nekoiya. Food. I''m so hungry. I haven''t had food in- His mind blanked for a moment. Nekoiya noticed it did that more often than he''d liked. Anytime he tried to revisit the past it was like walking through a field of fog. He felt lost in his own mind, only for a time, all before coming back to the same thoughts. Food, I''m so hungry. As little as he''d taken in his surroundings, the mercenaries hadn''t spared him more than a passing glance either. All they saw was a dirty, orphaned child with hollow blue eyes and skin hugging to bone-too young to be a threat and too weak to fend for himself. It was nothing new. No, instead, they laughed, joked, and talked of tomorrow''s errands. A routine escort mission through bandit territory. And the ludicrous price they were willing to pay for their safety. Something about a nobleman or another. Nekoiya didn''t understand a word these people spoke, but they were happy and they fed him¨Cand like a loyal dog he basked in their happiness, even if it had nothing to do with him. A young brown haired girl broke through the static. Her hair was braided and back showing off her pointy ears. She cautiously raised her hand and waved at him before speaking. "Hi." She said, Nekoiya turned and scanned her over. She smiled as he mimicked her wave. "Hi." He spoke soft and raspily, almost surprised by his own voice. Her smile widened. "How old are you? I''m Seven." Nekoiya stumbled around the words, opening his mouth over and over. "I-i''m seven." "Gasp¨Cwow really! Oh- are you hungry? I''ll get you some food from the fire." At last a word Nekoiya understood, food. The girl''s bare feet scurried away, kicking up dust as she disappeared into the crowd. Nekoiya felt a warm light in his stomach as his thoughts of food slowly faded, replaced by the girl. Then the longer she was away the warmth was replaced by a hollow drumming. He buried himself even more into his legs until she came running back through the crowd. Her tunic was lifted and in it held what Nekoiya thought was a mountain of food. ¡°I didn''t know what you like so I grabbed everything.¡± She cheered. ¡°The elders are being silly so they didn''t even noticed.¡± She snickered then plopped the food on the wagon and sat beside Nekoiya. The sweet, smokey smell of roasted meat and bread conquered his nostrils and pillaged his focus. Before he could reach out she grabbed his hand, and then; ¡°That there Honey Ant Legs, and that''s mudcrab, that¡¯s steak, and that''s Vineshin.¡± ¡°L-legs, mudcrap, stank, V-v-¡± Nekoiya stammered. ¡°Vineshin. It comes from deer.¡± She picked up a round dark piece¨Cthe edges charred with a light red coloring. It stuck to her fingers as she held it out to Nekoiya and gestured to his mouth. He leaned forward and sniffed, flinching from the heat before chomping down. His eyes popped. The sweet flavors fighting a never ending battle with the musky, tangy flavors only ending when the meat practically melted in his mouth. ¡°Vineshin. . .¡± Nekoiya said, grabbing a handful of meat and shoving it in his mouth. The girl grabbed a piece and did the same. ¡°So, what''s your name?¡± She spoke. Nekoiyas mind couldn''t even hear her much less recall his own name. Once she realized he wouldn''t respond she continued. ¡°You must not have a name. That''s okay, I think. My name is Sylvara.¡± She paused, pointing over to a man and woman resting on a log beside the campfire. The man was burly and tall. His skin carried the look of thick rough leather, a bit darker than Sylvara herself. His hairy head made him look square and sturdy. The woman, thick like him, was a soft terracotta, her long black hair folded down the man''s chest as she lay on his shoulder. Sylvara waved to them. ¡°Those are my parents. They¡¯re what we call Elders.¡± Nekoiya grunted. ¡°Do you have any parents?¡± She waited, thought to herself, then looked down at the food. ¡°I guess not huh.¡± She opened her mouth to speak again but was interrupted by a stoney voice. ¡°Sylvara!¡± Her father called. He had left his wife by the fire and was now walking towards them. There was something in his eyes: anger, joy, mischief, disappointment. Sylvara caught it immediately and stood, leaving Nekoiya on the wagon. ¡°Hello Father,¡± Sylvara Said. ¡°I see you''ve been quite helpful, again.¡± He said. Both Nekoiya and Sylvara understood The emotion now. Annoyance. ¡°Oh father, can you please make him family? He doesn''t have a name or food or friends.¡± ¡°I would love to, my girl,¡± He knelt down and placed his hands on her shoulders. The width of his palms stretched from her neck and down her arm. ¡°But he has been placed in Tekkons care, Tekkon will give him a name, and a home, and food.¡± ¡°Awww, Tekkon?¡± She pouted. ¡°Tekkon is young. Capable. His time has come like everyones will, and he must earn for himself like everyone else.¡± Her father stood and walked to Nekoiya. They locked eyes for a moment before both looking away. Sylvaras father turned to her and sighed. ¡°Your mother and I are glad you have made a friend. Unfortunately what you have given him he has not earned for himself like you¡± And in one swift action he swept up the remaining food and carried it away. Nekoiya froze, his mouth still full of Vineshin and steak, he could do nothing but watch as the giant man walked away with the only thing he cared for. The air felt light in one breath then unbearable the next. He felt himself begin to shiver. He couldn''t understand the feeling like most things¨CFear, sadness, anger, he didn''t care. Nekoiya only knew whatever the cost he needed it back. Without thinking he let out a scratchy ¡°Ahhh!¡± and leaped from the wagon, nearly knocking Sylvara to the ground. His tiny hands grasped at the man''s tunic with desperation, pulling with all his strength¨Cbut he had barely noticed. To Nekoiya It felt like trying to stop a rolling boulder but he tried regardless. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. The man rolled his eyes before placing a giant finger on Nekoiyas head and flicking him off with a thud. The boy crashed to the ground and sprawled back to his feet. A warmth lit behind his eyes that he quickly wiped away. He knew crying wouldn¡¯t bring his food back. Instead he rushed, grabbing a stick from a nearby fire and breaking it over the giant man''s backside. A puff of fire and debris splashed back at Nekoiya and he stumbled back. For a moment the man said nothing, only finally turning to face the boy, his expression unreadable. Sylvara darted forward and flung herself. Her arms clasped to her fathers waist in desperation. She mustered everything in her power to hold him in place. ¡°Please father! He didn¡¯t mean it!¡± Her voice shook as she held firm. The man glanced down at his daughter, his gaze softening for a moment before wrapping his fingers around the back of her tunic and lifting her away as if she were no more than a nosy kitten. She plopped down behind him before turning back to Nekoiya. Around the campfires, the music and drunken fun quickly fell into an uncomfortable silence. Some stumbled around to get a better look while others crowded around creating an inescapable cage of unfamiliar wicked faces. Then, the murmurs began. ¡°The Kids either real brave or real stupid challenging Dagan like that.¡± One woman said sloppily. ¡°Shut up.¡± Another girl beside her said with a shove. ¡°Ain''t he Tekkon¡¯s kid? Figures.¡± An obnoxious mocking laugh sounded off from the back of the crowd drawing more attention. Nekoiyas breathing was sporadic. His fists clenched so tightly he barely felt the sting of the fire anymore. The tips of his nails burrowed into his palms and his stomach stung with hunger and hate. But the pain was drowned away by something darker, hotter. The elders'' gaze clashed with Nekoiya and he saw the deep piercing blue that the boy had him trapped in. Then suddenly, to everyone''s shock, Dagans lips snaked into a faint smile before casually tossing a small bit of mud crab legs at the boy. Nekoiya instinctively reeled his arms up to block but soon realized what had happened. The meat flew past his ear and bounced against the ground. Nekoiyas body seemingly moved on its own as he lunged to his knees and shoved the crab into his mouth, dirt and all. In a matter of seconds he had gone from a boy to a feral animal and back again. The crowd erupted with laughter and disgust. ¡°Look at ''em go!¡± One mercenary man said, ¡°Poor thing eats like he''s half dead!¡± Another woman said. ¡°Show me more.¡± Dagan said then gestured with both hands for the boy to come close. Nekoiya hadn''t understood the man''s words but he understood the meaning. It was a challenge. Fueled by the tease of food and the promise of more he ran back in. His frail hands rammed into the wall of a man''s stomach with no more than a chuckle from Dagan. Each blow shook Nekoiyas whole body. He swung wide and wildly. Every few seconds he would slow down in pain, Dagan would toss another piece of food into the air, and Nekoiya would continue. The camp once again erupted into cries and barbaric screams. All were oddly pleased to see the young boy earn his keep, though unconventional they knew he would soon learn. ¡°Keep going!¡± Sylvara screamed. Nekoiya locked eyes with her and smiled. The drumming had gone away, replaced again by the fire in his belly. Sylvara among all was the most happy for him. ¡°That''s enough Dagan!¡± A deep voice cut through the crowd like a barrage of arrows. The crowd quickly died down as the thunderous footsteps of another monstrous man loomed to the front. All heads turned as Tekkon stepped forward¨Call, of course, except for Nekoiya who was still laying into Dagan with unyielding determination. Tekkons weathered, calculating eyes swept across the scene before resting on Dagan who met his gaze with a mischievously entertained gaze of his own. ¡°There you are.¡± Dagan proclaimed as he calmly tossed another piece of meat into the air. ¡°Your boy¡¯s got fire. You should be proud.¡± Tekkon didn''t answer at first, instead he took a few long strides and appeared on the side of Nekoiya who was still swinging. Once he noticed Tekkon he turned, and without hesitation focused the brunt of his attack on him. Dagan coughed, trying not to laugh at the child. In one speedy motion Tekkon caught his hands, stopping the boy mid swing. Nekoiya wasn''t sure if this was some sort of challenge but he was ready. Instead of striking him, Tekkon lifted him by his arm and carried him away. ¡°If you''re going to test him, at least make sure he''s well fed.¡± Tekkon said. ¡°Fair enough my boy.¡± ¡°I''m not your boy anymore.¡± Tekkon shot back. His words were as sharp and piercing as the cold steel on his waist. Before Dagan could respond Tekkon was gone with the boy. It took a while but soon after the crowd regained momentum and began chanting about some other thing. Nekoiya swung in the air confused. It was normal for him at first, his whole day had been a battle of confusion¨Cbut soon he realized Sylvara wasn''t coming with and the soft drumming returned. At first he scanned the crowd attempting to lock eyes with her. When that didn''t work he squirmed, then scratched, then bit at Tekkons arm until he was tossed to the ground. Tekkon had walked them to the back of the camp. A tent, a tree, 3 logs, and a fire were all that lay around them. Nekoiya rolled against the dirt then ran, but was quickly yanked back by Tekkon. He tried again and again, being pushed and grabbed until Tekkon had enough and pushed down on his shoulder until he sat down. Tekkon knelt down, and he slowly handed Nekoiya a bowl of soup. He hadn''t noticed for a moment as the drumming compelled him to go and find her but he caught Tekkons softened eyes and the drumming slowed. The wafting smell of soup hit his nose as Tekkon shoved the bowl into his chest. ¡°Eat.¡± He said. Nekoiya hesitated for a moment before digging in. The warm smooth taste of the soup took a trip down his body and into his stomach, he felt himself lean against the log and finally relax. For some reason he felt more safe in front of Tekkon than he did anywhere else in the camp. Though if Sylvara were there he would have felt at peace. Nonetheless he ate in blissful silence as Tekkon sat beside him poking the fire and watching the people walk past. He let out a sigh and turned to Nekoiya. ¡°It''s a shame putting you to work so early, little. . . Neko-iya.¡± He said, stumbling over the letters of the name he had made up on the spot. ¡°Remember that feeling that drove you. The hunger, the pain, the fight. It''s what will keep you alive.¡± Nekoiya didn''t shoot him a glance. Instead he took his time clearing the bowl of all of its contents before staring Tekkon down. He let out a deep sigh. ¡°Hungry.¡± He said, gesturing for the empty bowl. ¡°H-hungary.¡± Nekoiya stuttered. Tekkon continued, touching his hands together then his chest. ¡°Pain, Fight.¡± ¡°Pain fight.¡± Nekoiya Mimicked. ¡°Survive.¡± Tekkon Said, lowering his tone to a deep and sturdy command. He tapped the boy''s chest with his fingertip then gestured to the rest of the camp. Nekoiya could see him now as the firelight danced fine shadows across his face. It was strong, a bit thinner than Dagan''s but still commanding. His jet Black hair whispered with streaks of brown as it hung in a ponytail. His soft brown skin raged with scars and worry lines. The boy didn''t reply, couldn''t reply. Flashes of his mother appeared And vanished like ghosts and his eyes widened. He knew that word all too well. Nekoiya quickly rubbed the burn scars in his back he''d forgotten he had. Survive. At all costs. II: A Purpose 2 Years Later The air was smooth and crisp. It always was before a good rain. The purple-grey sky was laced with magic and electricity that seemingly danced through its clouds like a leaf in the wind. That is, unlike the usual black-grey darkness of a storm that the city of Kaur was typically used to receiving, this one was a special one. Yes, on a day like this, one would sit down and enjoy the breeze, the static in the grass. And Nekoiya enjoyed every moment of it every time he got knocked on his back. Before getting back up and continuing to take the thrashing he was receiving. Yes, on a day like this, any other day than this one Nekoiya would have enjoyed it. ¡°Get up boy. We''re still going. I haven''t gotten knocked down yet.¡± Tekkon whistled. He stood in the center of the stone ruins holding his wooden sword at his side. He held an eager grin on his face as he looked over Nekoiya and then to Dagan who, unsurprisingly, held the exact same grin. Nekoiya crawled to his feet, bending to pick up the small wooden sword that lay beside him. The once cool air bit at his lungs as he failed to stabilize his breathing. He took in three deep breaths and wiped the sweat from his face. He''d ditched the tunic and poncho long ago and was now barefoot in just pants. And he considered ditching those too. He spat off to the side and then; ¡°What. . .round is this. . .again?¡± Nekoiya stammered. His stutter disappointedly still there. ¡°Aww don''t tell me your tired boy. You wanna quit, right? After you begged us to teach you.¡± Tekkon taunted. ¡°No. . .no I just-I want to go on the hunt.¡± The mercenaries of Kaur were tasked with procuring the heart of a Sacha-Runa¨Cthe walking tree beasts that roam the outskirts of their empire, The Highgardens. They were rare, they were strong, and they were deadly. But Nekoiya didn''t care about any of the information. He had been in Kaur for two years, and he hadn''t been able to contribute other than basic tasks. But Nekoiya thought that learning the sword would qualify him for any mission. Tekkon shot him a concerned glance in between laughs. Everyone told Nekoiya he was far too young to do missions like those, but if that boy was anything it was persistent. ¡°Donno son. I stopped counting at 5.¡± Tekkon laughed, ignoring the previous comment. ¡°Dagan?¡± ¡°Don''t look at me brother, I lost count at 15!¡± The two of them chucked to each other before bursting into laughter. Nekoiya grew more and more agitated as the laughing and overdramatic arm flailing went on. He sucked his teeth and tried to focus back on his stance. ¡°You¡¯re on round 27.¡± Sylvara said softly from the grass. Her tone was nice but clearly attempted to hide her discontent. ¡°Thank you, Sylvara.¡± Nekoiya said, clearly annoyed, that time. ¡°I was just letting you know.¡± She let out. His eyes softened but he didn''t apologize. He just sucked his teeth again and looked away. ¡°Don''t let them get to you, just focus on keeping your stances clean and guarding.¡± ¡°Easier said than done.¡± He murmured. ¡°I don''t know Neko, I''m not allowed to fight. Maybe if you moved faster or something then he couldn''t hit you.¡± The sting of embarrassment knotted itself in his chest. He felt defeated. Pained. He ran through every stance he''d practiced over the past month, every attack, every weakness of Tekkon. Nothing clicked. Eventually all the thinking and the noise became too much for him and he finally felt his body relax. His breathing had steadied and his hands were calm. Screw the lessons. He thought. The two men stood to the edge of the stone square they fought on, casually making fun of him, mimicking his sloppy sword stance and the like. Nekoiya resumed his guard. Now far more aggressive he lunged low pulling the hilt of his blade back to his side. And before Tekkon could notice he took his opportunity. I¡¯ll show him this time. He thought. A hollow drumming erupted in his belly as he leaned lower and lower. The blade was a blur of wood. Every fiber and muscle in the boy curled with power and he made good and well that this advance made no room for escape. For Tekkon it was either retreat or death. By the time Tekkon noticed it was already too late. He was off balanced, with a step back he spun the sword around Nekoiyas jab with a thwack and parried. Tekkon laughed and let out a clumsy slash up but Nekoiya was ready. He stepped over to the side throwing the blade behind him then with one quick step he slashed at Tekkons side. When it landed he was frozen, he couldn''t believe he''d done it. His eyes shot from his hand over to Sylvara who was standing and clapping. Her excitement quickly became horror to Nekoiya¡¯s confusion. He had been so elated at the first strike landing that he completely missed the butt of Tekkons sword whirling around to knock him in the face. WACK! Stars danced through the purple-grey sky as he stumbled to the floor, clutching his nose. ¡°Pay attention boy! You¡¯ve pressed too far! Poke and release!¡± Dagan yelled from the sidelines. Sylvara raced in and grabbed his head. She held it as Nekoiya squeezed his nose. ¡°Oh lord of light, are you okay?¡± Nekoiya managed a nod through the pain. Though his pride was more hurt than anything else. ¡°I''m fine.¡± He muttered. ¡°Fine?! You just got hit¨Creally hard!¡± Sylvaras eyes quickly landed on Tekkon who was unsuccessfully trying to hide his shock behind laughter. ¡°And you! Did you really have to hit him like that? Meanie!¡± Tekkon took in a deep breath, then spun the sword one end jammed in a crack in the stone, the other on his finger. ¡°Aye, better he learns here than against a bandit, or worse, a Sacha-Runa. Or do you think I should have saved the lesson for our eager friend to find elsewhere?¡± Syvara scoffed. Then turned her full attention to Nekoiya. She reached up and patiently pulled the loose strands of hair from his face. ¡°You both need to be nicer to each other.¡± Nekoiya couldn''t hear her anymore. The hollow drum was ringing off in his ears. The laughter, the disappointment, the pain. The hunger. He was hungry. He looked up at Tekkon, his eyes glowing with purpose. This time he wouldn''t let them get the better of him again. ¡°Let''s go again. Right now.¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Tekkons mask of entertainment broke, replaced then by a soft face of concern and worry. But he quickly slipped it back on before anyone else other than Nekoiya and himself noticed. He tossed a finger to his temple then let out a ¡°Hmmm¡¯. And then he let out a droning ¡°Nahhh.¡± That sent a boiling rage the ough Nekoiya from his feet to his fresh wound. His fists clenched and cracked. He couldn''t believe they were overlooking him again. ¡°No?!¡± Nekoiya stepped forward, his sword hanging low but ready to strike. Tekkon studied him carefully. He knew he could beat the boy but there was something burning inside him. The tension between them hung like a stormcloud. Reluctantly Tekkon broke eye contact. He set the sword on his shoulder and let out a low groan. ¡°You heard correct. You¡¯re not ready.¡± Tekkon said. His voice, calm but firm. Nekoiya lingered on the stone, glancing back and forth between the two men. They had denied him once again, at this rate he would never get anywhere. ¡°This¡­I-¡± He bit his tongue, letting out a puff of air before storming off. Sylvara watched him round the hills back to camp before looking to her father and Tekkon. ¡°Be nicer.¡± Was all she said before dusting off her tunic and chasing after him. *** Sylvara found Nekoiya slumped under a tree overlooking the camp. His hands were full of little stones. He stacked them. One by one the biggest to smallest until it couldn''t balance anymore then he moved to a new pile. He shot her a bothered glance then continued his towers. ¡°Hi.¡± He said ¡°Hi.¡± She sat beside him, leaning partially against the tree and partially against him. ¡°Are you upset?¡± Nekoiya froze. His hands trembled as he carefully stacked the last stone on his tower. ¡°No.¡± ¡°You''re lying.¡± ¡°I¡­am not!¡± He snapped, his words reverberated, sending the stone tower crashing down. He cursed softly in a language he no longer remembered and then, ¡°Well¡­M-maybe a little.¡± Sylvara chuckled. ¡°Your hands are shaking. Your stutter came back. You¡¯ve got that look like you''re gonna cry again.¡± ¡°I¡­I don''t cry!¡± He scoffed then turned away, his face beat red. She picked up the stones then set them in a pile beside her. ¡°You know you don''t have to hide. No one''s watching, just me. And I''ve seen you cry before.¡± Nekoiya sighed then plopped his head back against the tree. It had not helped his injury but he didnt care. ¡°Crying won¡¯t¡­They j-just keep¡­¡± He bit his tongue again. On top of all of his embarrassment his stutter always came to finish the job. He growled at himself, then continued. ¡°Can¡¯t fight, can¡¯t h-help. Can¡¯t¡­prove I''m strong. T-they don''t see me.¡± ¡°They do see you.¡± She replied, scooting closer. ¡°It''s hard not to.¡± ¡°No.¡± He started with more force than ever. ¡°They see a child. I don''t want that. But they won¡¯t let me p-prove I''m n-not. Every day, ¡®Neko, pick up these dirty clothes, take ¡®em to the stream. Neko, clean my sword. Neko, organize my books. Neko, fetch water. Neko, stay out of the way. Little tasks, like I''m nobody.¡± ¡°Neko. You don''t have to prove yourself to anyone. Not like this. If you get hurt-¡± She paused. She didn''t even like thinking the thought. ¡°If something happened it would be bad for everyone. But if you take your time, eventually you¡¯ll be right beside them.¡± He stayed silent, his eyes never leaving the few rocks he held left in his hands. Sylvara frowned, then continued. ¡°You''re learning Neko. That''s all Tekkon wants. He just wants you to be ready so that you don''t end up-¡± ¡°Dead.¡± He snapped. ¡°That''s what everyone really thinks. That i''ll end up dead out there. W-well I survived on m-my own before and I¡­¡± He took a deep breath, his stutter threatening to betray him again. ¡°I just want a chance, a real chance to prove it.¡± ¡°You matter.¡± She said, leaning fully into him. He stiffened. ¡°It doesn''t feel like it sometimes. Tekkon¡­¡± Then we¡¯ll make it matter!¡± She said, leaping up. Sylvara snatched the stones from the ground, measuring them to the millimeter, then stacked them high. ¡°Start small, but put your all into it. If we fight for your keep, they''ll have to give you-¡± ¡°Everything.¡± Nekoiya whispered. ¡°Thank you, Sylvy.¡± He leaned in and crushed her in a hug. ¡°I''m gonna go talk to Tekkon!¡± He yelled. ¡°O-okay!¡± She replied. Without a moment wasted he hopped to his feet and sped off back to the ruins. He could feel the fire in his chest again. Everytime it went away, when it seemed too dark for him to think Sylvara was always there to help him back. They weren''t blood. Hell they weren''t even of the same family, but she was his sister till death. And he would one day be as useful to her as she was to him. As he rounded the hills once more, the wind seemingly thrusting him forward. It stopped. There he was, Dagan, and Dagan alone. ¡°Where¡¯s Tekkon?¡± He asked. Dagan turned to him. ¡°Ah boy, you forget somethin¡¯?¡± ¡°No¡­I wanted to talk to Tekkon.¡± ¡°Oh, I think he''s by the river. Got a little girly when you left, don''t tell em¡¯ I told you.¡± He shot Nekoiya with that same playful smile he''d expected for two years now.¡± ¡°Okay thank-¡± ¡°Boy.¡± Dagan stepped to him. ¡°You¡¯ve got fire in you. I see it.¡± Nekoiya turned back to the old man, his face growing more and more serious as they spoke. Dagan had always been there for Nekoiya, though he wasn''t his father. ¡°Now I¡¯m not one to tell a man how to raise his cubs, and by light if you were mine I''d have you out there a year before now.¡± ¡°What?¡± Nekoiya said. Dagan sighed. He shook his head in defeat. Then chuckled to himself. ¡°You wanna prove yourself? Get on that wagon. The world won''t wait for a boy to be a man. You¡¯ve got something to prove, prove it then and now. If not to them, to yourself.¡± ¡°But-but Tekkon s-said¡­¡± ¡°Oh what does he know? The boy is still a boy himself. In my eyes at least. But you''re not a fresh cub either. You''ve got fire. And fire never wants to sit still.¡± A flash of magic and electricity flickered through the air with a pop before dissipating. Nekoiya watched every stream of light as it simmered to the ground. He lingered on Dagans words, then to Sylvaras. He knew what he should do but he knew he possibly wouldn''t get a chance like this again. Dagan shrugged. ¡°We leave at first light. Sneak on, don''t sneak, don''t come. It''s up to you. But once Tekkon sends you Hell send em to me, his old man will sort em out.¡± Nekoiya smirked, despite the weight on his chest his decision had already been made. If he was gonna prove anything to anyone it would be to himself, he knew what he was capable of, he knew what he should do, he just didn''t know what Tekkon would think. III: A POSSIBILITY Aemarys, witch of the Mazzi forest, last surviving member of The Ashen Circle, often spent her time studying the stars. The three sisters, the chimera, the weaver. She looked to them not for their beauty, but for their secrets. Not looking to them as just stars, but theater, stories left behind by ancient unseen hands. But no story gripped her mind like the wanderer. A few speckled stars in the shape of a man eternally posed between the north and south star; his shape blotchy, like the hands had captured him mid conflicted step. She always felt a kinship with the wanderer. His indecision. There was a bleakness in him, forever frozen in a moment of choice. She knew it all too well. ¡°Noone to help you. Noone to talk to. A terrible fate only left for us most unfortunate few, eh?¡± Her voice purred through the old wood cabin. She soon found she was staring longer than she liked to admit. What was he paralyzed by? Fear? Doubt? Was this merely about a path or life and death? Aemarys imagined the wanderer, a small farm boy lost in the woodlands. A sinister choice. Maybe neither choice was correct. Maybe he¡¯d walk the etheric trees till death found him. She shivered and closed her book. Eldaria always said, ¡°The stars are not mirrors but windows. Stare too long and you might see things. Or things may see you.¡± She hadn¡¯t heard that babble since she was in her teens. To most standards, she was an old woman now, but the magic and her hobbies kept her young. She stood, having taken what she could from her stargazing, and continued her nightly checklist. Aemarys had already tied her long spiraling orange hair up into a neat bun. She placed her crystals and gems out in the moonlight, her ingredients, parchments, bottles all organized by shape and content. Her movements mirrored an elaborate dance as she spun through every inch of the memorized cabin. She knew precisely where to step and how much pressure to keep the creaky floorboards silent. If there was one thing she was proud of, it was her memory. From the drably shaded curtains Eldaria hung for her before she was tall enough to reach, to the worn runes scratched and re-scratched into the wood frame. This cabin was her sanctuary. Her pond of memories. Everywhere she looked, she saw one and none ever left. Eldaria always said, journey to the past and you¡¯ll grow older. She laughed and shook off her unease. With the same swiftness, she snuffed out the lanterns, sending the room into a comfortable purple-blue haze. Nothing but the moon shone through the cracks in her ceiling. She had used her magic before to fix the place up, but she liked that feature. Aemarys strolled to bed, tucked herself in, and prepared for the next day. The wanderer, the stars, they would have to wait for her tomorrow. She stumbled through a field of Anokau wheatgrass. The bustling sweetness of sugar blew through her nostrils and the crowded crystalline leaves tugged at her dress until it ripped at the hem and skirt. Summer kufki heat simmered in the winds, burning her nostrils, and the sky spattered with unnatural red splotches. As she walked, she grew heavy and tired. Her bones ached with heat. Eventually, she spotted a tiny figure in the distance, the splotches of red seemingly ablaze behind him. A boy. A boy with a gleaming golden sword too big for his little body. A boy no older than 15 wallowing in the red sky. The blade, now appearing a vibrant orange, pulsed a dark purple, as if it was alive, feeding off of the boy. Aemarys stumbled through the clearing. The boy flinched, and she locked eyes with him. Those cold blue eyes were pits of sorrow. Deep as the ocean, but empty. ¡°Y-you shouldn¡¯t be here.¡± The boy said, his voice scattered and split, yet loud and forceful. ¡°It¡¯s n-not s...safe.¡± Aemarys stepped closer, one hand up to the boy, ready for diplomacy and force. ¡°Who are you?¡± She asked. The boy twitched at the question as if it caused him pain. He fully turned and stepped towards her. His sword dragged along the dirt, leaving jagged cracks that seemed to stretch into the ground. ¡°I-I didn¡¯t mean to.¡± His gaze fell on the sword. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice!¡± Before she could take another step, the skies shifted. The bloody red turned a deep purple-black. The boy glanced up and rambled twistedly in a familiar tongue. One she hadn¡¯t heard in centuries. Her eyes widened as the boy took up a stance and dash for her faster than her eyes could see. She quickly stumbled back into the brush, but her feet betrayed her. The boy. Took a leap and with regret in his eyes. He swung. She reached her hands out, trying to use her magic, but nothing came to. Before she had time for another action, the boy was at her neck. He swung, cleaving her head in one strike. Aemarys Leapt up from her bed with a gasp. Her hands flew up, catching her throat as if she were still bleeding. Her my raced, her chest heaved. The symbols, the boy, who was he-why? She pressed her palms to her head and tried to calm herself but the boy-his eyes-his hollow eyes. ¡°It was just a dream.¡± She said, but the feeling still latched itself around her. She felt exposed, like the dream had reached inside and pried something feral out of her. The faint glow of a rune on the edge of her cabin caught her eye. Intruders? She sighed. The sun hung low on the mercenary camp, bleeding a mystified orange beam of light along the treeline as Nekoiya crept through their shadows. Ahead the camp sturred with the beat of scurrying feet and tools. The acrid stench of kindle bane clung to the air like wet clothes to skin. Its smell mingled with the metallic tang of sharpened swords and made for a bitter concoction Nekoiya was forced to breathe in. Men barked orders then scurried themselves. Talks of the hunt to come oozed with an excitement for violence Nekoiya had only seen a few times from these men. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Nekoiya¡¯s heart pounded through his chest and reverberated into his ears. The viscous drumbeat of his fears shot through him with every step, almost loud enough to echo through the trees. His jaw clenched as he swallowed back his panic. Tekkon was somewhere around the camp¨Ctriple checking supplies, barking orders at men, or perhaps already looking for him. Whatever he was doing, the boy hoped he wasn¡¯t looking for him. His mind lingered on the talk they had the night before. Again, Nekoiya had asked to join them on the hunt for the Sacha-Runa, and Tekkon again said no. His words echoed through Nekoiya¡¯s mind, ¡°You¡¯re not ready. You¡¯re too young.¡± Tekkon wasn¡¯t mean or forceful, but his sternness and Rocky demeanor would give anyone pause that, combined with his overwhelming stature, made Nekoiya just a tad fearful. Slipping into a brush that seemed lower than others, Nekoiya made way into a burrow that gave way to a steep hill. One moment he was fine, the next he''d lost his footing and he tumbled to the bottom. He froze for a moment, his breathing sharp and pained. His hands were caked in soil, and a spike of shame made way in his chest. He didn¡¯t want to do this. He didn¡¯t want to be sneaking around His own camp. He didn¡¯t want to lie and hide and be a coward. He wanted to march straight to Tekkon¡¯s tent, look him in the eyes, and say, ¡°I¡¯m going. I¡¯m just as much a man as any of you. I have to earn my keep like everyone else. So by Seies, give me a sword and let me fight!¡± But he soon felt another wave of anxiety burrow its way through his stomach. The shadows around the campfire crept to life the more time had passed. Figures darted back and forth, lugging supplies to wagons or waking up others to do the job for them. The final preparations were closed. Nekoiya edged closer. Every step was a silent gamble as he crawled through where the underbrush was thickest. A group of mercenaries passed close by. 3 of them. Each one of them¡¯s armors clunking together a whirling metal song. Nekoiya pressed himself against the base of the dirt and stilled his breathing. He watched as the trio trudged by. Arvien, the tallest of the three, let out an exhausted yawn, his axe and rations bag tilled the soil behind him as it dragged. As if the contents were too much for his meager body to hold. ¡°Coulda been done with this already, had they minded their own and let us work.¡± He spoke with a soft accent Nekoiya didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°You mean to let you work,¡± Thalvak lazily shot back. ¡°Gods know you¡¯d sooner trip over your own feet than pick up the pace.¡± Zephim, one of the few grey-skinned men in their camp, let out a disgusting chuckle while fixing his ill-fitting chest plate to his lanky frame. He was a peculiar man; Tekkon had once told him that such a man was a Kretna, but Nekoiya hadn¡¯t inquired further about the meaning. Just that their skin was funny. ¡°I¡¯m just sayin¡¯, why all the fuss? We know the drill. Pack up, haul ass, swing a blade, collect our coin. Who cares if it¡¯s perfect?¡± Arvien huffed. ¡°This is Tekkons mission.¡± Thalvak said, to the dismay of the other two. ¡°Tekkon. Bah! When¡¯s the last time anything¡¯s gone smooth under his watch? He knows how this stuff goes. Some things are bound to fail,¡± Arien said. The other two collectively rolled their eyes. Then Thalvak took the last bite of his Grenfruit before chucking the husk to the ground a few steps from Nekoiya. ¡°Well, just let someone else stock the wagon. It¡¯s not like we¡¯ll be the ones yelled at if something¡¯s missing.¡± The three trudged off into the distance, their silhouettes fading into the black of the trees. Nekoiya pondered for a moment. Had this journey really been more than he bargained for? Those men spoke as if this plan was destined to fail, and someone was bound to get hurt¡ªand they certainly didn¡¯t want it to be them. But he pushed the thought aside as a small supply wagon at the edge of the camp caught his eye. He knew he couldn¡¯t sneak on to the mission on the main road. Tekkon was busy, but he wasn¡¯t oblivious. He¡¯d spot the boy before they left ten paces away from the camp. Barrels and sacks loaded the rusted wooden frame of the wagon. If he could sneak on, he¡¯d probably go unnoticed for most of the trip, and by the time they noticed him, it¡¯d be too late to turn around. Nekoiya scratched at his face. His mind tumbled the risks around once more. If Tekkon were to catch him... No, he couldn¡¯t think about that now. He had already come this far and any thoughts to sway him would Force him to back down. And he wasn¡¯t about to lose his chance. Staying nearly chest to the ground. Nekoiya darted across the open path, attempting to avoid any spots of sunlight. He quickly slid along the ground, crouching down beneath the wheel. With a flick, he scanned his surroundings to make sure no one saw him. The camp was a storm of activity as men rushed from cart to wagon to tent. But nobody seemed to notice, or at least they didn¡¯t make it known. Quietly, he climbed into the wagon; the wood scraping against his already dirty hands. Once he made it to the back, he clutched his knees to his chest. He tried his best to cram himself between boxes. But a soft drumming in his chest began and he couldn¡¯t stop his hands from shaking. The time dragged by And Nekoiya felt the pinch of sleep pulling at his jaw. Finally, the sound of boots approached and the wagon¡¯s sharp dip to the left accompanied it as the driver took his seat. ¡°Move out!¡± A strong, familiar voice boomed through the open field. A bag flew from the front and whacked Nekoiya in the head. He bit his tongue in pain. Nekoiya caught his breath as the wagon lurched forward, the steady rocking of the unbalanced wheels soon, the few footsteps grew too many and the wagons behind soon rode its line. As the camp faded out of view, a sudden thump hit Nekoiyas¡¯ mind. He hadn¡¯t thought this far yet. He didn¡¯t have a weapon. He could fight, but not well enough to beat a Sacha-Runa. And worst of all, he didn¡¯t have any food. As the sun rose, so did the doubt in his chest, and it''s only intensity with every passing member who peered into the wagon to see him. He wanted to shake away the fear. He wasn¡¯t just doing this out of spite; he needed to prove himself. He wasn¡¯t going to be left behind. Instead, he tilted his head to the sky and watched as the clouds rolled by. Hopefully, it won¡¯t storm today. He thought.