ã€ŠIgnited Galaxy Book 1: Bondsã€‹


 Prologue

    Life is about struggle. The struggle against the world around you and the person inside of you. Every day in this world is a war for your right to live in it.

    - Collected Teachings of the Exalted Sovereign

    4.26.1371AS of the Galactic Standard Calendar

    with life. Every tree and bush held within it an entire world of insects and lesser beasts in a constant war for survival. Such was the way of the natural world. Nothing was ever given, only earned. Even beetles crawling up the leaves of ferns found their grip tested as the plants snapped at them with whip-like cracks of their branches in an attempt to knock them away like a cow flicking its tail to swat away a fly. This constant battle made the wilderness seem like a massive creature stirring and writhing in perpetual slumber as trees swayed and plants snapped at the life deemed unworthy of its bounty.

    Only in one spot did the jungle seem to still itself: Zaharias stood in the midst of this sea of greens, reds, and oranges like a predator standing tall before his prey. He wore sleek, black armor of chitinous carapace that covered him from head to toe save for three lines across the crested helmet that made up a tinted visor. With it, the entire jungle was laid bare to him, all major movements highlighted to him along with a variety of other useful information. Nothing of note stood out, and so he changed his tactics.

    Zaharias¡¯ eyes closed while he felt deep inside of himself. A fire burned within, not physically, but at the substance around his very soul. His potential, the potential that was held within every living being and surrounded every living soul, the potential that turned ordinary men and women into heroes of legend and song. A being¡¯s potential was not born ignited. There were only three ways to ignite one¡¯s potential: to be pushed to the brink of life-or-death survival, to be ignited by a dragon, or to submit to the teachings of the Exalted Sovereign, who governed all life. Ignited had a greater connection to all life and more importantly could feel the presence of others who had similar gifts.

    He could feel two other lit fires nearby: his hunting partner, Zenovia, perched atop one of the great trees like a vulture searching for carrion, a rifle resting across her lap; and Theseus, with a spear in one hand and a large, carapace shield in the other. Just like Zaharias, the jungle stilled around them both. These were not what he was searching for. Distantly, through the connection of his potential, he could feel another fire burning. It wouldn¡¯t be long now.

    His thoughts were interrupted by a brief click from the inside of his helmet followed by a gruff voice.

    ¡°It is still not too late to turn around, Za.¡± It was Theseus, his eyes still on the horizon as they awaited their prey.

    ¡°If we do not act, then those outside of the wall will continue to suffer against it,¡± Zaharias¡¯ calm and stoic voice came in reply.

    ¡°They are the ones who decided to settle outside the safe area. If they cannot protect themselves then the jungle is bound to swallow them eventually. If you ask me? It is a wonder The Suneater even allows them to stay on this world.¡±

    ¡°Unity is the hand that guides the sword of valor, Theseus,¡± Zenovia¡¯s voice quipped within their radio, prompting a grunt from the man and a small smirk from Zaharias.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go quoting the Exalted Sovereign to me, Zen. We cannot help every cindering person if they insist on walking into a deadly jungle the second we stop holding their hand,¡± Theseus bit back before quickly adding, ¡°one ignited beast isn¡¯t worth sending three of us to deal with it. I might as well spend all day in bed and get the same waste of potential growth.¡±

    Only now did Theseus¡¯ visor turn towards Zaharias, who shrugged to reply before planting his gauntlets atop the hilts of two swords on either side of his waist. ¡°Enough, Theseus. Your gripes aren¡¯t about to let our quarry suddenly stop caring that we¡¯re in its territory. It won¡¯t be long now; it seeks a challenge as much as we do.¡±

    He could feel it getting closer; there was no point in trying to hide or lay a trap for it. It could sense them just as well as they could sense it. As he felt its presence come closer, he gestured for the others to get ready. He drew both of his blades, each an excellently crafted length of steel with a graceful curve to it starting from the hilt and working its way to the point. He reached out through his connection with the life around him, his two allies, like two balls of white fire sitting against a muted color jungle behind them, then the creature they were hunting. The white fire of its potential blazed hot and now could be seen much more clearly. Unlike the three of them however, the white sphere in the center  have a shape, like a set of eyes peering through the dark of night, tendrils barely perceptible reaching out towards all that surrounded it against a backdrop of fire, a true predator. The active movement of the jungle around them stilled completely.

    ¡°Oh no¡­¡± Zenovia began over the radio, a slight tremble in her voice. A feeling of dread filled the air and where once the fires of their potential had given their egos warmth against the unknown, now there was only  Zaharias opened his eyes again and could see the jungle around them had stilled. The preternatural senses granted to him by his potential heard the sounds of taloned feet scraping against the now silent underbrush and low-hanging branches snapping against a wide body.

    ¡°It¡¯s cindering ¡± Theseus called out in frustration, unable to hide the fear in his voice as he shifted back with his weapon at the ready. ¡° why we¡¯re out here? Za, if this thing¡¯s identity wasn¡¯t messing with my head I¡¯d¨C¡± Its roar resounded through the air, the voice sending a tingling wave down the spines of each of the Ignited who had come to face it.

    ¡°Hold!¡± Zaharias bellowed, one sword raising into the air. He was trembling, his heart being forced to pound heavier as the creature¡¯s identity threatened to overwhelm them. ¡°The Exalted Sovereign watches us now! Today we prove our potential to be greater than this beast! Hold, burn you!¡±

    Another snap of wood announced its arrival. The creature was near twelve feet tall, not counting the wicked horns on its head. Two gleaming, golden eyes glared at them all beneath the shade of the trees. It stood on two legs, its form hunched forward with two long arms hung in front of it, occasionally helping push its way through the underbrush. Each hand and foot had a set of curved talons, useful for digging and tearing while it had an elongated muzzle with rows of sharp teeth. A serpentine-like tongue slid out before brushing over its maw while a long, sinuous tail dragged behind it as it approached the Ignited. It had come to see what had stumbled into its territory, expecting to find worthy prey, and was only faced with three Ignited. Spines on its back bristled as it let out a low, raking growl, its head lowering as it got down onto all fours, eyes set on Zaharias.

    Through his brave front, Zaharias once more reached out through their life sense to confirm that yes, it was not a trick of the light and he had seen the soul of the creature had become Shaped, earning an identity. An identity that represented fear, from what Zaharias could tell. It was slightly reassuring that the voice in his head screaming at him to run was not his own, not completely anyway. Zaharias and Theseus shifted closer to one another; Zenovia remained resting on a large branch in a nearby tree, rifle at the ready. They hoped that the creature would go for the more immediate prey.

    They were right.

    The Igniteds¡¯ suits warned them as the creature briefly flashed red on their display before it roared again and shot forward at a speed that no creature of its size should be able to manage.

    Zaharias wanted to scream and run but managed to steel himself long enough to shout, ¡°Theseus!¡±

    His companion did not need to be told twice; he threw himself to the side, Zaharias going in the opposite direction as the creature tore through the air where they had once been, its sheer speed making the air whip up in a frenzy and peel away some of the bark of the nearby tree. A shot rang out and slammed into the beast¡¯s head, making it jerk to the side. It let out another roar as Zenovia shouted over their comm channel, ¡°I think that only made it angrier!¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The creature¡¯s feet dug into the earth as it broke into a sprint, tail whipping behind it as it found its new target, golden eyes meeting Zenovia¡¯s as it closed the gap between her and her tree in an instant, talons flashing in the light before it carved through the massive tree. Zenovia¡¯s balance lurched, and she nearly lost her balance before she leaped up into the air, rockets in her boots activating in her panic and helping her stumble to the next tree over. The beast was already nearly upon her, using the still-falling tree as leverage to leap up into the air for her. Her eyes widened as she stared into its gaping maw.

    A force rammed into it from the side. Theseus had charged after the creature, his ignited potential granting him increased speed and his armor assisting it further as he thrust the shield up into the creature, knocking it off trajectory and making the two of them crash through another tree. He raised his spear to pierce its heart, a battle cry on his lips but it was cut short as one taloned hand shoved him away. Talons raked over his armor and caused a web of cracks to line the surface before he was thrown through another tree that kicked up dirt in its wake. The creature recovered, hitting the ground with a skid and roll before it was back on all fours. It roared in frustration, sending another wave of tingling dread through the three of them and stole precious seconds to react from them.

    Zaharias was not about to let his companions have all the glory. He crossed the toppled trees in an eyeblink, charging the Shaped creature. It dug its claws into the dirt beneath it before pouncing forward, meeting his charge. Zenovia began to fire upon it from above, her gun making an echoing  through the air, yet all it seemed to do was bounce off of its thick hide. ¡°Its scales are too thick, I can¡¯t find a weak spot!¡± she cried.

    Both it and Zaharias clashed, the impact causing a plume of dust to blow away from them as blade met brutal, ferocious claws in an expert series of parries and strikes. ¡°Focus on its limbs! Give me openings!¡± he snapped back in the midst of his clash with the beast.

    Zaharias¡¯ blood pumped through his veins. Staring down the creature, he felt the fire of his potential burn brighter and brighter with each moment that he managed to survive. The joints of his armor groaned under the constant strain of impacts, but held. They were able to withstand two Ignited clashing, but with a Shaped¡­ there was uncertainty there. This creature was a league above them and every matched blow reminded him of that. Either way, he had its attention.

    Then the beast roared in pain. Theseus had returned, a rocket-aided jump bringing the warrior square onto its back. With the natural might of his ignited potential and the armor, he managed to pierce a wound into its scaly back. The doubts retreated for a moment. They had managed to surround the creature, Zaharias before it, blades flashing in the light, Theseus on its back, spear rearing back for another blow, and Zenovia¡¯s rifle aiming for its legs now to keep it off balance. A perfectly coordinated hunt. There was something wrong however. Zaharias had felt his potential burn like a new sun in his body as he faced down the creature, but he did not feel the eyes of the Exalted Sovereign on him. Was this not worthy prey?

    A keening sound rang from the creature and all three of the ignited warriors froze in place. Zaharias tried to wrestle back control of his body but was struggling to do so. What was happening? He tapped into his life sense to try and see. The beast¡¯s potential burned hot; tendrils of fire and shadow seemed to lick at the edges of its very soul while the Igniteds¡¯ own flames seemed to sputter in uncertainty. Every part of Zaharias¡¯ brain screamed at him to drop his weapon and . That uncertainty was deadly and it gave the beast just enough time to wrap its long tail around Theseus and tug him forward. It brought all of its talons together and speared the man straight through his stomach. There was an accompanying crunch as his armor gave in to the strength of the beast.

    Zaharias cried out, seeing the flame around Theseus¡¯ soul suddenly flash hot in one final blaze of glory before snuffing out entirely, the soul itself floating away weightlessly toward the heavens like a feather lost to the wind. Theseus dropped his weapons and the creature cast aside his body with a flick of its tail, sending it crashing through one more splintered tree before it slumped to the ground. The keening continued as it then brought its golden gaze to Zaharias.

    ¡°Zenovia, run,¡± Zaharias whispered.

    ¡°Za?¡±

    ¡°There is a fine line between ambition and foolishness and we have chosen the latter this day. I will not have us lose three Ignited to this creature due to my mistake in judgment.¡± The Ignited stood with weapons at the ready. The beast did not charge him. Its tail was shifting from side to side like a content dog and Zaharias could swear there was a grin on its razored maw.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s both retreat!¡± Zenovia insisted.

    ¡°That is what it wants. Go, Zenovia, tell my sons that should I not see them come the next sunrise, I will see them in Memory.¡±

    ¡°Za!¡± Zenovia called out, but he did not reply and brought his full attention to the beast across from him. The fires of potential blazed to new heights as he let out an exhale and with it a tremble working its way through his frame. The grip on his weapons tightened as he accepted that this moment meant the end of his life, or the shaping of his soul. He felt foreign eyes upon him from on high, the Exalted Sovereign¡¯s attention coaxed to him through the weight of this moment upon his life. The knowledge that his God now watched this duel made his heart hammer in his chest. What had changed? Life-or-death struggle was enough for one to ignite, but to be shaped as well? His eyes widened as it all clicked. His attempt to sacrifice himself to save his allies, his core motivation behind everything he did. The Exalted Sovereign saw it now, his desire to protect all those around him, and wished to see the power of that motivation here in the slaying of the shaped creature before him.

    The beast bellowed at Zaharias, a warning and a taunt, to either face it with honor or to run and die a coward. Zaharias roared in reply, sliding his blades together to create a rasping hiss. Then this was truly it, his chance to Shape, his chance to become something within the Order of Ignited and show his children the galaxy he had been protecting them from all this time. He glanced back to where Zenovia was in one final, silent plea for her to leave. She returned the look before leaping out of sight. He let out a breath he didn¡¯t remember holding before focusing on the beast.

    He pressed his weight onto one foot, then launched himself forward, the force cracking the earth beneath him as he charged the beast. Fear screamed in the back of his head; he was terrified, but often that is when mortals truly felt the most  The two clashed again, his blades being caught by crossed talons in the air, momentum holding them both there for a brief moment before the creature shoved him up and back. Ports in Zaharias¡¯ armor opened up as jets of flame shot out to right himself again as he landed back against the ground, already dragging his foot forward to lunge again. The beast swiped for him again but this time its talons slipped just over his head as he dropped into a slide beneath its legs. His blades cut at its haunches and made it roar in pain.

    As he passed its legs he threw himself upright, now behind the creature and twisted to face it. Its tail was already swinging towards him but he managed to raise his blade just fast enough to catch it. The tail cracked against it like a whip, a small vacuum of air forming and snapping the blade in two at the impact. Zaharias grit his teeth, dropping the blade instantly as the creature had swung around in a wide sweep of its talons, tearing through the earth as it tried to rip Zaharias apart. The Ignited managed to leap back at the perfect time, the talons scraping over his chest plate as he skidded backward¡ªright next to where Theseus¡¯ shield had fallen. He grabbed it, raising it in his left hand while he held his blade in the right. ¡°Exalted Sovereign watch over me as I overcome this trial!¡± he shouted, meeting the beast in another charge.

    The two clashed and whirled around one another, blades, shield, talons, and tail all clashing against each other in small showers of sparks. Trees splintered and shattered, wildlife scattered as their duel destroyed the jungle around them. In a matter of minutes the once-thriving patch of jungle looked as if a tornado had uprooted all of what was there and tore it to pieces. Zaharias¡¯ armor was barely holding itself together; cracks spread across the entirety of its surface and part of the visor had fallen off, revealing one emerald green eye and a patch of blood-stained, tanned skin beneath. His breathing was coming out in ragged heaves of his chest, adrenaline and his suit¡¯s systems being all that were keeping him upright. The creature, meanwhile, had half of one horn missing, a variety of cuts and bruises across its scales, and a few chunks missing entirely.

    All in all, this ¡°prey¡± had proven itself to be worthy, more worthy than perhaps even Zaharias had expected. Maybe it was a mistake to send Zenovia away¡­  he thought,  He wasn¡¯t dead yet, which meant there was still a chance, however slim, for him to succeed. His emerald gaze met the beast¡¯s golden one. Amidst the adrenaline and blood in the air, there was a mutual respect shared between the two apex predators of the jungle. However, such respect would not save them.  were the words of the Exalted Sovereign.  The two let out one final roar of challenge to one another before Zaharias ran at the beast. The beast ducked low, sweeping its talons across where the Ignited was about to cross. He leaped over it, but it was in that moment he realized his mistake, his final mistake. The creature¡¯s head lurched upwards, Zaharias¡¯ trajectory leading him right into the path of the creature¡¯s remaining horn. The systems in his armor tried to release jets to course correct but it was too late.

    Zaharias had been skewered fully on the beast¡¯s horn as it tore through armor and broke through bone, lifting him and its upper body into the air as it roared in triumph. The Ignited coughed out blood, his vision going blurry and pain flaring up across his body. With one final act of defiance, he struck the beast¡¯s eye with his sword, stabbing it and causing that roar of triumph to turn into one of pain. It grabbed his arm with a taloned hand and ripped it free. He let out another cry of pain, blood spilling over the beast¡¯s maw and mixing with its own as it grabbed him with his free hand and threw him to the ground with a wet smack.

    Zaharias looked up to the beast above him, choking on his own blood. He wanted to still cry out in defiance but all he could muster was a wet gurgle. The beast looked down at him and the last thing he saw were rows of razor-sharp teeth in an expansive maw before all went black.

    The jungle became still once more.

 Chapter 1

    Chapter 1

    A struggle need not be faced alone. Lift up your brothers and sisters who surround you. It is through unity that you may overcome struggles that would otherwise be insurmountable. It is through unity that our valor is known.

    -Collected Teachings of the Exalted Sovereign

    The Holy City of Dasos was bustling today. It was a small city; only tens of thousands called it home, however each one of those citizens was an Ignited or someone under the protection of the Ignited. Warriors roamed the streets in packs, while others leaped across the squat, stone buildings that made up the city¡¯s bulk like stepping stones, all of them talking, laughing, or training. At all hours of the day sounds of metal clashing against metal could be heard somewhere as the Ignited dueled one another and smiths of the order worked on new armor and weapons.

    ¡°They say there¡¯s going to be a meteor shower tonight. Suneater is even going to make sure the branches and leaves don¡¯t cover up the sky so we¡¯ll get a clear view of it.¡± Phaidros grinned, excitement filling him as he looked up to the sky. Most of it was occupied by a vast network of near-black branches surrounded by leaves of red and green. Light from the sun peered through the leaves in gentle rays. Phaidros waited for a moment before adding, ¡°Charon? Did you hear me?¡± He looked to his older brother, who was blankly staring ahead toward the vast gate before them. The two brothers were sitting on a bench along one of the nine paved roads that led out to one of nine gates surrounding Dasos. It was one of the small reminders that the city was not some ancient ruin being repurposed for the modern era. The silence made Phaidros purse his lips. ¡°Charon?¡±

    ¡°I heard you,¡± Charon replied, his voice coming out as if it took effort to speak above a whisper, which often made it sound like he was frustrated.

    ¡°And¡­?¡±

    ¡°And what?¡±

    The response made Phaidros¡¯ shoulders sink in disappointment. ¡°And when Father returns we can all go up on the wall and watch.¡±

    There was silence for another moment before Charon finally looked back to Phaidros, deep blue eyes squinting. His angular face did not help him look or sound any less angry than he was. Where once Charon had the look and build of a fierce warrior he seemed to be losing more and more muscle each day. The pressed, high-collared black uniform they all wore was starting to become loose on him. At least he still had his tan so Phaidros knew he was getting sun. Unlike his brother, Phaidros was built with a soldier¡¯s lean body, tall like their father with wide shoulders and short, black hair that was beginning to curl. ¡°You¡¯re eighteen now and you¡¯re excited about meteor showers?¡± Charon asked.

    Phaidros¡¯ face flushed with embarrassment. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s a chance for us all to spend time together again!¡± he responded defensively. ¡°Father has been working hard to become Shaped, it could be a celebration and we can all forget about¡­¡± His voice trailed off as his own green eyes drifted to the wooden cane currently resting on his brother¡¯s lap just above a messenger bag that he carried with him everywhere. He already regretted speaking.

    ¡°Forget about what?¡± Charon replied flatly. ¡°Don¡¯t answer that,¡± he added with a huff a second later. He lifted a hand up to his head to swipe away some stray locks of his shoulder-length, curly black hair and rested his hand against his open forehead as if it was aching. ¡°Father has been spending so much time out there because he doesn¡¯t want to look at me and I know it.¡±

    ¡°Of course he wants to see you!¡± Phaidros assured, leaning over as he did so and frowning with concern. ¡°No matter what, he cares about you, about us. He can tell you himself once he returns.¡±

    ¡°It loses its impact when you tell him to say it,¡± Charon replied, eyes narrowing again as he saw people approaching the gate. Phaidros wondered why he didn¡¯t just get himself glasses. His pride, his mind immediately answered.

    ¡°Are you coming to see the meteor shower or not?¡± Phaidros sighed, shoulders slumping.

    ¡°Of course I am.¡±

    This answer made Phaidros blink in confusion before he looked suspiciously at his older brother. ¡°Did you have to make that so difficult?¡±

    ¡°I have a right to complain. Everyone treats me differently now.¡±

    There it was again. Another reminder. Phaidros looked to the cane and back to his brother again, now permitting silence to hang heavily for another moment before he forced the words out, ¡°You could try again, you know.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± his brother snapped. ¡°I¡¯m not going through that pain again. You should worry for yourself, they won¡¯t let you stay here if you don¡¯t become ignited soon.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re letting you stay,¡± Phaidros quickly shot back.

    ¡°It¡¯s different. I¡¯m Cindered, Phaidros.¡±

    Silence lingered in the wake of that word. It was still all so new to them both. They had heard stories of the Cindered. They usually started in two ways, someone grew so used to victory they started to become complacent, or the fear of the fire slowly feeding upon them inevitably swallowed them in despair. All of them ended in the same way¡ªpain, with the fire having nothing left to burn but the soul itself. When the flame was snuffed out, all that was left was a dried-out husk clinging to life, all of their senses crippled from the lack of potential.

    Phaidros still remembered the screams. It had been why he had not gone to be Ignited himself by now. Every time the thought bubbled up in his mind the doubts began. What if he couldn¡¯t do it? What if he could not improve himself fast enough? What if he became like Charon?

    The last thought repeated in his head and he felt ashamed. Lift up your brothers and sisters who surround you. The words had been drilled into him from a young age, to help one another become their best selves¡ªthe climb became so much easier for all when everyone assisted the people around them. Yet every time he looked at Charon he felt less and less like there was something that could be done. Perhaps that was why the others treated him differently. Phaidros opened his mouth to end the silence when he noticed a commotion outside of the normal. A handful of armored Ignited rushed past the brothers towards the gate. The clicking of their comms could be heard from their helmets as a crowd was beginning to gather. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Charon asked. Such activity near the gates wasn¡¯t common. They weren¡¯t guarded, as this was a city filled with armored, divinely gifted warriors. Any who attempted to attack the city would have the Ignited descend upon them like a swarm of large, powerful wasps. That wasn¡¯t even counting the Ideal that watched over the city.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Phaidros answered. Something was wrong. Phaidros leapt from his seat at the bench going to see what was going on before remembering to get his brother. He turned to Charon, who was struggling to his feet, pushing himself up with the help of his cane before he grimaced at his younger brother. Phaidros quickly moved to his side, helping take one arm as the two made their way towards the gate.

    Amidst the growing commotion, Phaidros made out two of the armored Ignited from earlier, helping a third walk through the gate. Their black, chitinous armor had cracked in various places, a rifle hanging from their back as they could hear their heaving breath. The two brothers recognized the small patterns of sweeping ridges on the armor and slight beak to the helmet as Zenovia, one of their father¡¯s hunting partners. Where was their father then? The brothers exchanged looks before immediately pushing past the growing crowd towards them. The three stopped, Zenovia¡¯s helmeted head lifting to meet their worried gazes.

    ¡°Zenovia?¡± Phaidros asked. ¡°Where is our father?¡±

    She was silent, still catching her breath before she shrugged away the two assisting her to stand upright. She lifted up her helmet with shaking hands. There was a hiss of airlocks releasing before she pulled it off entirely. Zenovia had fierce features with a deep scar trailing from her cheek down to her jaw in a jagged crescent. Her skin was the same tan as the two brothers but she had golden blonde hair she kept short, and piercing blue eyes. She was much older than the two of them but still looked to be in her prime, thanks to her ignited potential. Her gaze flicked between the two a final time as she struggled to find the words.

    Her silence spoke volumes on its own, both brothers¡¯ faces slowly filling with the dread of realization.

    ¡°Your father¡­¡± Zenovia began, tone curt, anger creeping in through the exhaustion. ¡°Stayed behind. He told me to pass on to you both that if you do not see him at the next sunrise then he will see you again in Memory.¡± The Ignited surrounding them glanced between one another. Zaharias was one of the best in the city, one of the most likely to become Shaped of them all. One of the other armored Ignited began to usher others away, giving the three space.

    Both Phaidros and Charon were quiet at first. Charon set his jaw and forced out, ¡°You left him out there?¡±

    ¡°Brother¡­¡± Phaidros muttered in an attempt to soothe him but Charon forced his arm free. The act caused him to stumble towards Zenovia; she reflexively moved to assist him but he caught himself on her armor. He tried to shove her back but the effort was utterly futile. Still, he strained with effort, growling as the woman looked at him with a sympathetic frown.

    ¡°I am sorry,¡± Zenovia began, the anger leaking from her voice to be replaced with pity.

    ¡°If you are sorry, get back out there and find him then!¡± Charon shouted, still struggling against her.

    ¡°I tried to,¡± she answered, voice now resigned. ¡°The creature we were hunting turned out to be Shaped. We didn¡¯t stand a chance. Theseus had already died and your father didn¡¯t want to risk all three of us.¡±

    Phaidros kept his questions to himself until now. A pit formed in his stomach but he was trying to remain positive. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ still a chance he could be alive, right? You can contact him through your armor, right?¡± He stared at Zenovia, strained hope in his eyes, but the look she returned made the sparking flame die as soon as it was born.

    Zenovia now gently grabbed Charon¡¯s wrists and pulled them off of her, the man¡¯s head hanging as he bit back tears. ¡°I am sorry, you two, I had tried to contact him, feel him through our life sense, but there was nothing. As I was retreating back to Dasos the cindering beast caught up to me.¡± That would explain the cracks in her armor, Phaidros looked warily to Charon as Zenovia had haphazardly brought up the curse ¡®cindering¡¯ in his presence. His brother only glared while Zenovia continued. ¡°I was lucky to get away with only cracked armor, it ran off when I got in sight of the walls.¡±

    ¡°Our father would not let some beast kill him,¡± Charon growled in denial.

    ¡°This wasn¡¯t just ¡®some beast,¡¯¡± Zenovia said. ¡°It was Shaped. From my experience, it was Shaped with a ¡®fear¡¯ identity as well.¡± Her eyes went distant for a moment. ¡°I had to fight back shaking like a leaf the entire time we were near it¡­¡± She shook her head. ¡°Your father was a great warrior, but a shaped creature like that was beyond even his skill.¡±

    Was a great warrior. Phaidros could hardly believe it. He stood there, speechless, his brother still growling in frustration against Zenovia¡¯s grip. ¡°W¡­what happens now?¡± Phaidros asked, voice trembling.

    ¡°Now? I report this to Sacred Suneater and most likely they organize a new hunt with a much more prepared party to ensure the creature is stopped before it becomes Defined and truly a danger to the city.¡±

    Phaidros¡¯ frown deepened. Another hunt. The killing of wildlife was strictly regulated by Suneater. Dasos and the jungle around it was a holy site to the Ignited. It was a world untouched by domesticated civilization where the flora and fauna naturally ignited, and often did so, even becoming Shaped as this beast had. Outside of theaters of war and strife amidst the civilizations of the Galaxy, Dasos was a place for someone to stoke the flames of their potential in relative safety, which was why most of the people that were invited into it were people who were on the edge of struggling to burn out like Charon did. It was safe inside the walls, not so much outside, however. Even if that monster butchered innocents outside of the walls, it could not be touched without Suneater¡¯s explicit instruction.

    Charon finally gave up fighting at this point, going slack in Zenovia¡¯s grip now out of breath. Phaidros nodded at Zenovia before hesitating. ¡°May we go with you? It only feels appropriate that we are there too. He is¡­¡± He hesitated to say the word was just yet. He could still be out there. ¡°Our father. We are under his protection and this will affect us as well. We should get to hear what happens.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Zenovia watched him for a long moment before sighing. ¡°If that is your wish then so be it.¡±

    ¡°Can you let go of me already?¡± Charon snapped and Zenovia immediately released him. The sudden freedom from restraint made Charon drop to his knees. Phaidros immediately knelt to pick him up but Charon brought up his hand to stop him. ¡°I can pick myself up,¡± he said indignantly. Zenovia frowned to herself and Phaidros took a step back, allowing his brother to pick himself back up and have his pride.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Zenovia insisted, stepping away from the two of them and heading off toward the center of the city. Phaidros sighed and then followed after with Charon lagging behind.

    It was not a long walk to reach the center of the city. All of the main roads offered a clear path straight towards the Temple of the Exalted Sovereign, which sat up against the trunk of the great tree in the middle of the city. The building itself was utilitarian in design, a big block of stone with marble pillars holding up the open front. It always made Phaidros think of some sort of massive, yawning beast baring its teeth to all who entered. There was no ornamentation on the outside, making it match most of the smaller homes that surrounded it save for its size. As the three approached the temple they could hear voices echoing inside.

    Zenovia strode in through the great pillars, Phaidros and Charon following after. The interior of the building seemed much like the outside: barren. No pews lined the grand hall. Phaidros had heard that this was something that other temples to lesser deities would often have. Scratches and small cuts carved through the stone floor where Honor Duels often took place. The only ornamentation that was allowed in the building were the murals on the wall depicting the ascension of the Exalted Sovereign. Beautiful mosaics showed the Exalted Sovereign when he was still a man facing down beasts twenty times his size, commanding armies against an army of horrid multi-armed abominations that Phaidros could never quite identify. Some of the mosaics had become dull and chipped with time; though it was unclear whether this was due to collateral damage from duels or from the passing of time. All of these mosaics met in the center where the building opened up again to the trunk of the great tree where one of its enormous roots dug into the ground. Above the back entrance there was one final mosaic of the Exalted Sovereign surrounded by a pillar of fire over the body of a dragon that was impossibly vast in size. Around him were kneeling onlookers, each holding a sword in their hand, a depiction of his final ascension.

    At the far end, standing atop one of the protruding roots was a figure at least seven feet tall. Their ¡°skin¡± was a near black made up of a gnarled and ancient bark that mimicked the wrinkles of an old man¡¯s face. It matched the hue of the tree they stood on. Atop their head was a nest of small, thin branches covered in red leaves, they were all tied back behind their head by one of the green vines coming from the back of their scalp. They had no eyes in the traditional sense, instead white fire barely licked at the corners of their carved-out eyes. They wore chitinous armor much like the other Ignited, however Suneater¡¯s armor was of a pure white color, near blindingly so, which contrasted against the black bark-like skin of their head. The armor itself barely seemed like armor anymore, like some of the chitin had been stretched out and had become loose and flexible, giving off the appearance that there were sagely robes being worn over a set of chitinous platemail.

    Phaidros, despite living in this city most of his life, had only seen Sacred Suneater a few times and never this close. Usually, audiences with them were reserved only for the Ignited. However, the moment that he had stepped into the temple he knew that what everyone said about them was true. He had felt a wave of warmth wash over him as he took those first steps, the doubts and fears that swarmed his mind seemed less daunting than before. He found himself taking steps with more confidence than he had previously, even noting that his brother leaned less on his cane. Such was the power of an Ideal, their potential burning so bright that it affected all nearby. Phaidros had been told that outside of the Order of the Ignited, Ideals were considered by many cultures to be gods themselves.

    Sacred Suneater stood before three armored Ignited, each with a helmet tucked under their arm. Phaidros could pick out one of them as human; one that had similar bark-like skin to Suneater, a drasil from Phaidros¡¯ understanding; and one with fins in place of ears, their hair having the same consistency of seaweed, and their skin a blueish grey, an ikaroa. The latter came in so many shapes and sizes it was usually safe to assume if one didn¡¯t recognize their features from any known source they were ikaroa. Suneater¡¯s voice echoed through the chamber. ¡°¡ªfall near the city it is imperative that you investigate immediately.¡± Phaidros noticed how odd their voice sounded, like leaves rustling in the wind to form words; their mouth didn¡¯t move as they spoke either. ¡°Go now and see that it is done.¡± The warriors saluted, fists clenched over their hearts, then stepped past the three approaching to do as commanded. Sacred Suneater then looked upon Zenovia and the two brothers and Phaidros felt a small shiver from the weight of their unblinking, unmoving gaze.

    Zenovia immediately saluted. ¡°Unbroken Sage who Devours,¡± she began, using the honorific of Suneater¡¯s name within the Ignited, ¡°you have received word already on what has happened, I am sure. I have come to make my official report.¡±

    Suneater¡¯s eerie gaze betrayed no sign of emotion as it swept from the two brothers and back to Zenovia with a quiet creak. ¡°Zaharias¡¯ hunt did not go as planned then, I see,¡± they replied, tone as soft as they were able. ¡°And so two cubs are left without a father and the beast is still out there.¡±

    Zenovia was about to answer, but Phaidros spoke first, one fist at his heart which he could feel pounding in his chest as he cut in. ¡°We aren¡¯t sure if he¡¯s actually dead but¡ª¡±

    ¡°He has fallen,¡± Suneater interrupted, causing Phaidros¡¯ eyes to widen. ¡°I could feel his potential burn up as he died.¡±

    At this, Charon¡¯s expression darkened as he took one cane-aided step forward. ¡°If you felt that then you must have known that the creature they faced was Shaped!¡± he said angrily, Zenovia shot a look back at him, brow furrowed.

    ¡°You speak out of turn, Cin¡ª¡± Zenovia began before Suneater raised a hand, requesting silence.

    ¡°I did,¡± Suneater admitted. This made Zenovia snap her gaze back up to Suneater in horror. ¡°If one is to improve themselves¡­¡± Suneater continued, ¡°one cannot seek easy victories and hunts.¡± The words made Charon¡¯s grip tighten on his cane. ¡°You know this, Zenovia, as did Zaharias when he took up the commission to hunt the creature. You could have taken many Ignited with you, but what would be the point of that? What knowledge and wisdom is there to be gained in having ten or twenty Ignited swarm a single, powerful foe?¡±

    ¡°You kill the creature and save the people living outside of the city,¡± Phaidros offered, still shaken from the confirmation that their father was dead.

    ¡°Perhaps true outside of Dasos,¡± Suneater mused. ¡°But our mission is to give struggling Ignited a chance to shape. Thus to dissuade people from taking on such challenges denies those who wish to improve themselves in the eyes of the Exalted Sovereign. If the people outside of the walls wish to linger, they may, but with the knowledge of the danger they willingly put themselves in. That is not our concern.¡±

    Zenovia jumped back into the conversation. ¡°I understand what you are saying, Sacred Suneater, but if the creature has been Shaped now, then how long until it becomes a threat to the city itself? How long before sending trickling amounts of Ignited to feed it makes it become Defined? If you try to deny this problem until it is past the gates, wouldn¡¯t you just be able to smite it down regardless?¡±

    The silence that followed in the moments after Zenovia¡¯s speech was deafening. They were spared, eventually, as the Ideal¡¯s voice carried through with the calm intensity of a parent attempting patience with an unruly child. ¡°In such a scenario where the creature ignores my presence and decides to attack the city, then I would be forced to act. This will deny any of you the chance for growth, however. A wasted potential for any and all of you and in this, with the Exalted Sovereign as my witness, I cannot allow.¡±

    Zenovia grit her teeth and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Phaidros could see understanding on her face before she continued. ¡°Then it is simply up to us to hunt the beast how we see fit.¡±

    Suneater nodded. ¡°And so the commission will be offered to all Ignited again until the beast is eventually slain, with any updated information you can provide to the new hunters, Zenovia.¡± Zenovia bowed her head, agreeing wordlessly.

    Phaidros stood there, stunned. Nothing was going to happen? Nothing was going to change? They were just going to hope that the next hunting party could be the one to take it down? Phaidros¡¯ eyes trailed to his brother who appeared to be seething. How many more people were going to die?

    ¡°There is one more thing,¡± Suneater said, eyes falling purposefully onto Phaidros now. ¡°A matter of your continued stay here.¡± Phaidros¡¯ gaze snapped back to Suneater, fear spiking in his chest as the Suneater continued. ¡°With the death of your father and your growth into adulthood, you are now neither Ignited nor under one¡¯s protection. Which means you must either be exiled from the city, or join us.¡±

    ¡°Surely you don¡¯t mean to kick the boy out the day his father died,¡± Zenovia said. ¡°You surely have some mercy, Suneater?¡±

    ¡°Every day in this world is a war for your right to live in it, Zenovia,¡± Suneater quoted. ¡°They may have the luxury of mercy outside of this city but not in it.¡±

    Charon took another step forward, now standing equal with Zenovia as he glared up at the Ideal. ¡°I may be cindered but I am still one of the Ignited, surely that counts for something?¡± It was a weak defense, but Phaidros still appreciated that his brother was trying.

    Suneater looked at Charon and even without expressions upon their gnarled visage, Phaidros felt the same look everyone else always gave his brother: pity. ¡°You are no true Ignited, cindered one,¡± they responded softly. ¡°You may ignite your potential again to put your brother under your protection¡­ but it will mean going back to that state of pain you wished so desperately to end.¡± Charon set his jaw, the hand on his cane clenching the head tightly as he considered. Phaidros could see the conflict in his eyes, the terror. He remembered that day, it was one of the few he had seen a glimpse of Sacred Suneater before their father whisked his son away into the temple. He remembered waiting outside, hearing the screams.

    It was at that moment Phaidros realized that he stepped forward to the opposite side of Zenovia. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll do it,¡± he said, the words spilling from him before he truly thought of them. Charon¡¯s gaze snapped to him, pained, but Phaidros continued looking up at Suneater. ¡°I will join the Ignited and¡­¡± he hesitated for a brief moment before continuing, ¡°would like to invoke the rite of vengeance upon the beast who slew our father.¡±

    Now Zenovia¡¯s gaze was on him. ¡°Ash and cinders, boy, are you trying to get yourself killed?¡± she yelled, about to add more before Suneater once more held up a hand.

    ¡°The boy is owed this much if he becomes ignited,¡± Suneater answered in a tone that bordered amusement. ¡°A family member or loved one may invoke the rite should the person in question be slain. However¡­ There are many hunters out there who will be eager to take on this Shaped Beast to prove themselves, and you are only now making the choice to become ignited.¡± They lifted their head. ¡°You will have one month to complete or abandon this quest before I return it to the other Ignited.¡±

    ¡°One month?!¡± Zenovia cried.

    Suneater¡¯s gaze remained on Phaidros. ¡°While this is a short time, I am sure you will be able to find those who will be able to assist you to make this challenge less daunting, hm?¡± The Ideal turned back to Zenovia. ¡°Unless you are still so shaken from the experience that you do not wish to also get vengeance for your hunting partner¡¯s death?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Excellent.¡± Suneater nodded. ¡°The boy¡¯s odds have just increased. Now, I am sure you both have a lot of training to do. The ritual of igniting will take place tomorrow, I shall put in a request with one of the smiths to prepare him his armor and a selection of weapons.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Charon said, one arm waving. ¡°Am I invisible here? What about me? I wish to get vengeance as well.¡±

    Everyone looked to Charon, as if forgetting he was there until now, the Suneater¡¯s attention fell back on the Cindered. ¡°How do you plan to do that?¡±

    ¡°Well I¡ª¡±

    ¡°If you ignite yourself again, there is a chance you will recover, yes, but under great stress. It will take every fiber of your being fighting for survival to claw your way back to your normal life. When you are standing here, feeling the same pain you felt months ago, will you have the strength to push past it? To walk again while your soul burns from the inside out? Or will you burn the remaining drops of potential you still have to ash? You think yourself to be on the level of the Phoenix?¡±

    Phaidros¡¯ expression saddened as he looked to his brother. There was a deep-seated anger and guilt there. He could see the memories flashing through his blue eyes, the pain, the anguish. He knew that Charon wished to help, to do something, but what could a Cindered do?

    ¡°Well?¡± Suneater prodded.

    ¡°I¡­ I cannot,¡± Charon eventually said, voice strained. ¡°I wish to but¡ªI cannot.¡± His head lowered.

    Suneater nodded sagely. ¡°Then you all are dismissed. The ritual shall take place at first light tomorrow. You should get some rest and prepare yourself, young Phaidros.¡± They waved their hand. The matter was decided.

    Zenovia turned and began walking, her feelings on the matter hard for Phaidros to decipher. Phaidros paused to look at his brother, Charon¡¯s eyes were still on the ground, teeth clenched.

    ¡°Are you coming or not?¡± Zenovia asked, looking over her shoulder, her disdain bleeding through her tone.

    Phaidros stepped over to Charon, one hand going for his shoulder before the brother brought up his hand, turning and hobbling out. Phaidros sighed then followed after.

    He had just signed himself up to potentially become just like Charon someday, if he failed or died at the hands of the same beast that killed his father. The thought haunted him, but he couldn¡¯t leave his brother alone in this city, or demand that he ignite himself again.

    The walk back home was quiet as Phaidros pondered on his future. Zenovia remained ahead of the brothers and every attempt Phaidros made to try and walk with his brother was met with more heated stares. The sun in the sky was just beginning to set over distant mountains. They had gotten about halfway home before Charon stopped, followed by Phaidros and Zenovia soon after. Phaidros looked back to his brother. ¡°¡­Charon?¡±

    ¡°Why did you agree to become ignited?¡± he asked.

    There was an uncertain pause, Phaidros¡¯ brow furrowing in confusion. ¡°I did it so that I wouldn¡¯t have to leave you all alone, brother,¡± he answered.

    ¡°As if I couldn¡¯t take care of myself?¡± Charon challenged.

    ¡°What? No, with Mother and Father gone now all we have is each other. I wasn¡¯t about to ask you to become Ignited for my sake.¡±

    Charon grimaced. ¡°And what, I¡¯m supposed to just sit here on the sidelines and watch as it kills you too?¡±

    Zenovia walked back over to them, ¡°Your brother made his choice, the least you could do is respect it,¡± she said with a resigned sigh, ¡°and support him. You¡­¡± she hesitated, ¡°are an Ignited, despite the mistakes you made, you shouldn¡¯t be lashing out like this.¡±

    Charon¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°I have a hard time remembering that sometimes, with how everyone looks at me.¡± He looked to Phaidros. ¡°How long until you start looking at me like that too?¡±

    ¡°Charon, I¨C¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± He sighed. ¡°I am sorry, I just need time to think.¡± He then walked past him and Zenovia heading down the main road towards one of the gates. Phaidros panicked then began to move after him before Zenovia grabbed his arm.

    ¡°Leave him be. You don¡¯t need that sort of distraction right now. He¡¯ll huff and moan about it for the rest of the night and apologize by morning.¡±

    Phaidros frowned but nodded, watching his brother hobble off, worry on his features, and guilt for even feeling that worry. He stood there, hesitant, then walked off with Zenovia toward their homes.

 Chapter 2

    Chapter 2

    A path already laid out before you is a path where no lessons are learned. Take the path where strife and challenges await you.

    -Collected Teachings of the Exalted Sovereign

    People always talked about staying inside the walls at night, however Charon knew that if you were still in eyesight of them you were safe from predators. The sheer aura of potential in the city was usually enough to warn off most dangerous wildlife. This close to the city, only a few of the plants whipped at him as he walked through it, a minor annoyance, instead of the aggravated assault he would have faced further away from Dasos. He used to be able to stride deep into the jungle and watch as the jungle stilled before him like subjects kneeling to their king. No longer, however. Now even the trees mocked him with their whipping vines. If they could laugh, he could imagine they would do so.

    The sun was now setting beyond the mountains, leaving the sky to bleed into the dark purple of night with the first few stars beginning to poke through the indigo sea above. Charon¡¯s mind stirred sluggishly. His cindered soul did not just affect him physically, but mentally as well. He wasn¡¯t a child, just a little slower than he should be. His body and the world around him moved as if there was a one-second delay behind what he intended to do or think about, an echo in a cavern becoming his everyday life.

    He had gotten used to it by now, it had only been a few months, but now he could walk, talk in complete sentences. He had improved so much and yet¡­

    His memory stirred, everyone¡¯s look of pity. All of them looked down on him. To be Ignited required one simple thing, improve yourself, and he had failed. A failure that had continued to be a stain no matter how much he worked to fight it off. They should be proud of him for even getting this far. Yet all they saw was a man who failed. A disgrace to their order. An omen of misfortune to point at and be a reminder for all others what happens when you stopped the never-ending march to stay ahead of the fire that licked at your very being.

    The thought made his grimace return as he walked through the underbrush of the jungle, careful of his step, cursing at the occasional thwap of a vine or fern, until he came to a small clearing in the trees where a small pond lay undisturbed. Charon took a deep, relieved breath, then went to sit down by the mossy earth beside it. Here he could finally have peace and quiet. Here no one could look at him with those pitying, disdainful eyes. Insects chittered in the background amidst the calls of birds and the sound of wind blowing through the leaves of trees. Despite all of the turmoil in his heart, all of the pain he had suffered, life continued on as if he were never even there. Charon reached into his coat pocket and flipped out a pair of glasses he did not like to wear in public and looked up into the night sky, thoughtful. Countless stars painted colorful speckles in a swathe across a backdrop of midnight blue. If you looked hard enough, you could see the billowing smoke trails of star dust marking the edges of the galaxy.

    That¡¯s when he saw the traces of white light dashing through the air above. The meteor shower. He had forgotten. His brother wanted to watch it with him. A pang of guilt stabbed at him. He was too harsh. His brother thought of everyone but himself, he even said he was doing all this partially for him. Charon couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of dread however, that if Phaidros were successful, if Phaidros could become a true Ignited, a Shaped even, then he would look at Charon with the same eyes as all the others. The thought sent a shiver through his spine.

    He paid more attention to the falling stars above. In old books he read, people wished on shooting stars for good luck. Perhaps that was what he needed right now. A bright one flashed overhead, teal fire burning in its wake as he closed his eyes and made a wish. ¡°I wish to be able to help my brother.¡± His eyes opened and the star was still there, burning, until he noticed it was getting closer. Like a thin, teal bullet it shot across the sky and landed in the jungle, causing the earth to shake briefly before stilling once more.

    He blinked, struggling up to his feet as he looked toward where he saw it crash. He glanced back over to the city, hesitating, before hobbling out towards the source as fast as he could. Luckily for him, it wasn¡¯t too far, and much easier to find once he saw the snapped branches and small fires at the head of some of the great trees. All of it led to a line carved through the landscape ending at the base of a tree trunk, dirt kicked up in a large pile. At the center of the impact zone was¡­

    ¡°A book?¡± Charon muttered. Something about this was wrong. Books didn¡¯t just fall from the sky. Yet before he knew it, he was next to the book, leaning down to get a better look at it.

    There appeared to be a title in front, but the crash had torn away whatever was marked and had marred the purple leather that bound the book. Charon reached out with one hand, poking the book once. He expected it to feel hot and was surprised to find it pleasantly cool. He gently picked up the book, looking it over. There were no other letters on the cover, but in the light of the rising moon he was able to make out through the ruined leather the outline of a stylized skull stitched in black across the cover. The paper on the thick tome had silver leafing and the depictions of what looked to be several dozen different humanoid figures. At least that was what he found on an initial inspection; each figure had no mouth and a single, large, eye with bright teal irises like a hieroglyph taking up the majority of their heads. The longer he looked, the less human-like they appeared, multiple arms, bodies stretched and twisted in unnatural ways. Charon squinted, curious, before he could hear the sounds of boots stomping through the woods, the roar of jets accompanying soon after.

    His mind lagged for a moment before he panicked and quickly hid the book beneath a pile of wood and leaves nearby left behind in what he assumed was the book¡¯s wake. As he stood he turned around to see the silhouettes of three Ignited in their armor stalking through the underbrush toward him, helmets on. He could hear a series of clicks, like an insect tapping its mandibles together coming from one of them, which was another capability of the Ignited¡¯s armor, encoded speech. There was a single click from each of their companions as they spread out, visors scanning the area while the leader with a crested helmet approached Charon. He didn¡¯t bother hiding, there was no reason for him to hide, and would look more suspicious if he did.

    ¡°What are you doing here, cindered one? It is dangerous out in the jungle at night,¡± the leader spoke, their voice having a tin-like quality to it through the helmet¡¯s speaker. Charon¡¯s eyes flicked to the other silhouettes, the moonlight creating a gentle sheen across the ridged, black surfaces of their armor.

    ¡°I was out on a walk to try and think,¡± he admitted. It was partially true. The leader was in front of him now, the armor giving them a good few inches of height over Charon, who tried his best to stand tall. ¡°It is usually not so dangerous if I stay within sight of the walls,¡± he quickly added.

    There were a few clicks coming from the surrounding Ignited. The leader tilted their head to one side, sizing up Charon before looking back toward the path of destruction the book made as it fell into the jungle. ¡°And you thought it wise to take a detour to see whatever just fell from the sky?¡±

    Charon raised an eyebrow. ¡°Surely if a meteor dropped it would be no harm to me after it had fallen? How often does one get to see a fallen star, let alone one that apparently harms others?¡±

    A few more clicks from the others and they all gathered around the leader again and all looked to Charon. The leader was the one to respond. ¡°If it was a meteor,¡± he mused, glancing at the impact site. ¡°Yet there is no meteor here. Did it get up and walk off?¡± he asked, incredulous.

    Charon shrugged. ¡°How would I know? It was barren when I got here. Perhaps it shattered as it passed through the jungle? It seemed to burst through plenty of trees.¡± He could feel the leader¡¯s stare and narrowed his eyes at the man. ¡°What? You think I picked up a meteor. I¡¯m cindered. I can barely stand up straight.¡± It pained him to tear himself down like that, but if it would make the others feel guilty and leave him be it would be worth it. The self-jab seemed to have the intended effect. The Cindered were still brothers and sisters, ones meant to still be protected despite their failure. Unity guides the sword of valor and the Ignited must lift each other up whenever they can and whatever else the Exalted Sovereign spouted. To subtly suggest that these three were calling the person they were supposed to protect suspicious and a liar would not hold well. The leader of the group took a single, defensive step back.

    ¡°I would not begin to think you are lying to us, cindered one,¡± the leader replied. ¡°Please, forgive me if I led you to believe that.¡± He bowed his head, then looked to the others.

    ¡°You are forgiven,¡± Charon said with a nod, frowning. ¡°¡­You are right though, a meteor wouldn¡¯t have walked off as it did. What are you expecting exactly?¡±

    The leader hesitated then shook his head. ¡°We were simply on orders from Sacred Suneater to keep an eye out for falling stars near the city. For what reason? It is not my place to question them.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Charon nodded. ¡°Very well, good hunting.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t need an escort back to the city?¡±

    Charon smiled softly. ¡°Whatever danger there may be, you¡¯re heading in the direction it would be coming from. I know I am in safe hands.¡±

    The leader nodded, stepping past him. There were another few clicks and the three disappeared into the jungle. Charon sat down as they left, letting out a breath he didn¡¯t realize he was holding. He felt dizziness threaten to take him before he shook it off, breath steadying. Why was he hiding the book from them again? Perhaps because he knew they would take it. Once he was a little more confident he was safe, he retrieved the book from its hiding place and walked back to the pond he was at earlier, not ready to return to the city just yet.

    Charon sat back at the edge of the pond, the moon high enough in the sky that he could look at the book again. There was no lock or anything on it, how did it survive the fall¡­?

    Unable to contain his curiosity any further, he opened the first page, which had the consistency of aged parchment. The text on the page was in a language he was unfamiliar with. ¡°That¡¯s disappointing,¡± he said with a soft sigh¡­ looking back at the page again at the marks at the top of the page.

    <i>Death is not the end. It is a new beginning.</i>

    Charon started. The words were coming from inside his head. He glanced this way and that, had the Ignited come back? No¡­ he was alone. He looked back at the page, looking at the first line again and heard the same words repeated in his head a few seconds later. Intrigued, he continued ¡®reading¡¯ the page.

    <i>Death is not the end. It is a new beginning. Take my knowledge and see that you have been lied to. The God of Life would see you march underneath his banner under what his definition of true potential is. I offer an alternative. One that tosses away the shackles to life, the shackles placed upon mortality itself. Read my works and become eternal. Read my works and become greater than any Ideal raised by Life.</i>

    That got a small laugh out of Charon. Greater than an Ideal? Hard to believe. Let alone possible for a Cindered¡­ still, the opening page had amused him enough that he flipped to the next page to a table of contents. ¡°Let¡¯s see here¡­¡± The book had a list of topics that he began to read through. Basic Vitaemancy, Advanced Applications: Soul-Binding, Reanimation, Fleshcrafting, Bone Molding, Soul Manipulation, Dead Matter Manipulation, Soul Sight, Geas Formation. Each one had dozens of pages listed as being relevant to each. Rituals: Gate Construction, Ascension, Mentor. This was¡­ morbid. Such powers seemed like powers reserved for a particularly macabre Shaped and beyond. That last one made him double take. Mentor? He flipped through the pages towards the end of the book, giving him glimpses of diagrams and blocks of texts in the same, strange language until he got to the ritual described.

    <i>Mentor Ritual</i>

    <i>The following ritual is for struggling practitioners. The only requirement is an offering of blood and a reflective surface along with the following.</i>

    Beyond that was an intense series of complex diagrams and explanations that someone would have to study for years to be able to truly comprehend. Yet¡­ the longer he stared at the page, the more it seemed to make sense, the innate knowledge of the book seeming to bury itself directly into his mind. Even though he could never describe or put to words the knowledge that the book contained, he could recreate it, a thought that should have terrified him.

    Charon gently placed the book down on a nearby rock, looking from its pages to the pond. This will do, he thought, then shuffled on his knees to the edge of it. A look at his reflection in the water made him hesitant. Am I really about to try this? he thought to himself before he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pocket knife he kept on him¡ªit was about all he could wield efficiently without tiring himself¡ªthen gently pricked his thumb on it with a small wince. Blood welled onto his thumb before he squeezed it out into the pond. He reached out with his thoughts, with his will, doing¡­ something, something that he could not describe as he held his hand out and watched the reflection. There was no flash or shimmer, or any other thing one might expect from a flex of power. Instead, when Charon blinked down at his reflection in the pond, another figure stood beside him, just behind. His mind lagged again before he yelped, spinning around gracelessly to see that there was no one there. He stared out at the jungle for a long moment, wondering if the other Ignited might have heard him. His heart was pounding in his chest before he slowly turned his attention back to the pond.

    The figure was still there, its single teal eye staring unblinking at him through the reflection in the pond.

    <i>Hello.</i>

    The voice that came with it was like countless voices all calling out in perfect chorus with one another with a deep bass that made the surface of the pond tremble. Its tone was singular, as if trapped in a permanent state of <b>exaltation</b>. Charon couldn¡¯t help but stare, wide eyed with terror. The creature on the other side was no mere humanoid. It looked to be about ten feet tall and had two long, atrophied legs that connected to a stretched-out torso. It had eight arms ending in clawed fingertips, two crossed over its chest, fingers digging into the flesh, two before itself beneath the other arms clasped in prayer, and the final four splayed behind the creature and bent unnaturally as if imitating the wings of a bird. The upper half of its face was taken up by a carved, teal eye outlined in black around the unblinking lid. The figure itself had lines tracing across its entire form as if it had been yarn twisted together, waiting to be unraveled; yet the quality of its skin appeared to be more like porcelain. He had seen a depiction of this creature on the book itself.

    <i>You have called and we have answered,</i> it rumbled.

    Charon sat there, stunned as his mind struggled to process all that he was seeing and hearing. Was it all a hallucination? Had he fallen asleep at the pond? He looked to his bleeding thumb, the ache swelling from the now open wound with more blood beginning to ooze out. He was definitely awake. His eyes slowly turned back to the ever-staring thing in the pond.

    ¡°What¡­ what are you?¡± was the first question that managed to push its way through the thick fog of his mind.

    <i>We are the Father¡¯s Exaltation,</i> it answered, the final word making Charon¡¯s throat dry and his body weaker than it already was, as if an invisible force begged him to supplicate before this creature even if it was only a reflection he was looking at. <i>We are here to guide those who seek the Father¡¯s power.</i>

    ¡°The Father¡¯s power?¡± Charon asked, a tremble in his voice now that wasn¡¯t there before. He gulped, feeling like a paralyzed rodent trapped in the gaze of a serpent. ¡°Then it is not your book?¡±

    <i>No. We are but a piece of him, his gift to the world, his sacrament.</i>

    Charon could not think of another reply quickly, so many questions churned in his head. He realized that the normal ambiance of the jungle disappeared. It was now dead silent, save for the sound of his own breathing. ¡°And how are you going to help me? I managed to use the ritual here somehow without even being able to understand the language in it.¡±

    <i>Such is the ingenuity of the Father,</i> it answered, tone increasing in reverence to this ¡®father¡¯ that it spoke of. <i>To be able to give power so freely to all that seek it. A kindness to all mortals to conquer that which they fear most.</i>

    ¡°And what is it they all fear?¡±

    <i>Death and the oblivion that follows.</i>

    A deafening silence followed. Charon couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. This was a madman¡¯s talk. Yet, the book had fallen from the sky. It was clearly what the Ignited were looking for but why? What use did they have for a book with the power over death when they were already granted immortality by the Exalted Sovereign?

    <i>You have questions,</i> its voice broke through his thoughts. <i>Ask,</i> it beckoned.

    ¡°People were looking for this book. Ignited. What would they want with ¡®the Father¡¯s¡¯ power? Do you mean the Exalted Sovereign? Potential is the power of life after all.¡±

    <i>Falsehoods. They seek to hide our Father¡¯s power from mortals,</i> it lamented, though its voice remained trapped in the rapturous Exaltation of this father it kept talking about.<i> It is power that challenges them that does not require suffering to get it, so in their envy they seek to destroy it.</i>

    Charon chewed on those words. Power to rival the Ideals and the Ignited. Were the Ideals truly keeping this from them? How could a mortal become powerful without becoming ignited? No matter how much he turned the thoughts over in his head it seemed impossible¡­ and yet with no training he managed to summon this ¡®sacrament¡¯ in the first place. He¡­ a Cindered, was able to do that. ¡°How then? I am Cindered, such power should not be possible for me to wield.¡±

    <i>Poor child, the victim of an abusive god burning any who do not march ever onward faster than the flame licking at their heels. You do not need such potential to wield the power of the Father. All that is required is a soul and the knowledge of which to manipulate it. Read the book, we beg you to take the Father¡¯s knowledge and see that we speak the truth.</i>

    His eyes trailed back to the book in question, still opened to the page on the ritual he performed moments before. He felt it calling to him, beckoning him to take its knowledge and use it. The idea was tempting, too tempting, overwhelmingly tempting. Charon licked his dry lips, staring unblinkingly at the book. If he could master it¡­ then he would no longer be useless, the others would no longer look at him with those condescending eyes. His brother wouldn¡¯t be able to leave him behind as he advanced past heights that Charon could only hope to achieve.

    <i>Use the book,</i> he heard Exaltation call from the pond.

    Fear broke through his thoughts like a hammer shattering glass. No, no he could not use this book. Any power that came from such a creature or whoever created it could not be good or right. Hands that were reaching for the book slammed it shut before hesitating, one palm flat on the cover. If he wasn¡¯t going to use it¡­ what would he do with it?

    He could give it to Sacred Suneater, but the thought made his stomach twist. That is what he should do, yet the pit in his stomach prevented his thoughts from focusing on that solution. No, not yet. He could try and destroy it, yet that seemed to be even worse. His fingers trailed over the ridges that outlined the skull on the ruined cover. The power to conquer death supposedly lay in the pages beneath. He set his jaw, fingers clutching at the edge of the binding before he picked up the book. ¡°I¡­ I need to think about it,¡± he said as quickly as his mind allowed, tucking the book into his coat. The creature did not respond. He was grateful for that, though he hesitated for a moment to wonder if he should look back in the pond and see that it was still there.

    Sense won out in the end and he grabbed his cane and began making his way back towards Dasos. He had much to think about, but he didn¡¯t want to rush into a decision just yet and leaving the book out here for anyone to pick up or potentially take back to Suneater seemed like a horrible option in comparison. So, for now¡­ he¡¯d keep it, just in case. If it meant that he could progress alongside his brother without the need to go back through that pain again¡­ then perhaps it was worth it.

 Chapter 3

    Chapter 3

    We care not from where your blood reigns, only where it is spilled. Let no person be born into greatness, let greatness come with arms clasped together as we achieve it as one.

    -Collected Teachings of the Exalted Sovereign

    Phaidros¡¯ eyes opened. He stared at the stone ceiling above him in a bleary haze as an alarm chimed beside him. When he peered towards the window he saw that the sun had barely begun to creep into the sky. The alarm was a formality as usually his father would have been awake by now and knocking on his door. He used to dread it; now he missed it, another small reminder that his life had been permanently altered. The simplicity of waking up, training with a sword through the day, studying hunting tactics at night, and spending time with his father and Charon in the evening had been wrenched away from him. Before today he was never sure if he was going to become Ignited, but as long as his family was around him, that would have been okay. Now? Now he felt as if he was in free fall and he was grasping at anything he could to stop the pit in his stomach. Today he was to become Ignited and whether he liked it or not, he had to move forward. A million different fears crept through his mind, voices similar to his own telling him that he could never live up to his father, that he would fail like his brother.

    He pulled himself upright, rubbing at one eye before moving into an accompanying bathroom in his room to get cleaned and dressed in a uniform his father had been saving for this day. Dasos being a holy city for the Ignited, everyone was expected to adhere to the same military fashion that the Exalted Sovereign had once worn when he was mortal: black uniforms with high collars that hugged the neck with clean pressed trousers tucked into boots. Those that had made successful hunts were allowed to adorn their uniforms with trophies of what they had hunted, making the uniform itself a blank canvas waiting to be adorned with shows of victory and improvement in one¡¯s own life. This led to many Ignited being adorned with necklaces of fangs and claws of predators or pelts of fur or scales across that which would normally be modern dress outside the jungle. Only Ignited could wear them, and until today Phaidros had worn the grey reserved for Kindlings, those who worked for or were under the protection of Ignited.

    Phaidros made a quick check in the mirror to make sure all looked well. As he brought a hand up to fix his collar, he realized his hands were shaking. He heard the voice of his father echoing in his mind teachings of the Exalted Sovereign, <i>when life seems uncertain and you are unsure where to go, move forward, for wherever you are going will be better than the place you were before.</i> He took a deep breath, running a hand through his curly hair as he gripped the sink beneath the mirror. His head hung for a moment as he let the dread wash over him before he pushed himself upright and forced himself to leave into the main room of the house. Everything here was as utilitarian as the rest of the city. The room was an open floor plan, with enough space for working out and several machines to assist with it, a sitting area for eating, and a small kitchen. Phaidros rummaged for some dried jerky and bread, chewing on it thoughtfully as his gaze inevitably fell upon Charon¡¯s door. His brother¡¯s words still echoed in his head and guilt added to the gnawing emptiness in his stomach.

    He walked to the door, lifting a hand to knock but hesitated. What could he say that could make it better? After a long moment he sighed quietly and went back to the kitchen to prepare something for him. He left the plate out on the counter and finished his own breakfast and stopped at the front door, taking a deep breath. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this, one step forward,¡± he muttered, then he pushed his way out of his home and into the outside, where rows of similar, two-story stone block buildings stretched on in both directions. The people outside were all heading up towards the temple at the top of the hill the city was built upon. Phaidros started his way up towards it with the rest of the crowd, where his future awaited him.

    Ignited weren¡¯t required to come to the ceremonies of the newly ignited, however it was considered taboo to not do so. They were all supposed to be ¡®lifting each other up¡¯ after all, and how could one do that if they weren¡¯t even willing to meet or welcome their newest member into the fold? Usually there would also be more advanced notice with multiple supplicants becoming ignited in the same ceremony. The urgency of Phaidros¡¯ igniting made it so there was less time for fanfare. Still, the usually grand, empty hall was filled with hundreds of Ignited.

    Phaidros scanned across the sea of heads. Most were familiar in some manner having been acquaintances to Zaharias or simply someone he saw walk or run by throughout the years spent in Dasos. Some were complete strangers. Dasos held several thousand Ignited, Phaidros wasn¡¯t sure of the true number, but new Ignited arrived every day and others left. He could see some of the ra perched up in the rafters, taloned feet hanging as hawk-like eyes stared down at him. He could see the tree-like drasil with their leaf-like or vine hair and bark faces communicating in a tongue he didn¡¯t understand. Then the ikaroa made up some of the shorter specimens, a few having frog-like faces and bald heads while others looked mostly humanoid with a few features that reminded others of their origins from the sea. He recognized one as he walked in, who turned to look at him with pitch black eyes. They smiled, showing razor-sharp teeth that made Phaidros immediately look away in fear. Others that he passed nodded to him as they noticed him, others gave polite and much less frightening smiles and a few waves before returning to whatever idle task they were doing while they waited.

    With so many Ignited in one place, the room itself seemed to glow as if lit by hundreds of independent fires. People bustled about, keeping a center line open for the new blood that was to join them but otherwise were talking and laughing among old friends, rivals, or a mixture of the two. Everyone here was adorned in various trophies whether it be medals won in wars from far-off worlds or the pelts and furs of beasts slain. One man among them seemed to tower over the rest of the crowd, the black antlers on his head making him even more so. His eyes had no pupils and had an almost metallic sheen to them that scintillated different colors as the light hit them. He wasn¡¯t talking to anyone around him, his attention on Phaidros the moment he stepped through the doors. Phaidros tried to avoid his eye contact as well.

    Each step Phaidros took from then on was heavier than the last. As he walked down the space cleared for him the talking slowly died down aside from a few whoops and hollers from some in attendance. At the end of the path was Sacred Suneater, dressed in their armor and standing upon the massive root that tore through the back of the temple. They were quiet while the rest cheered, the weight of their glowing, white gaze felt as if Phaidros was wading through the deep ocean. At the base of the main root in front of Suneater were two armored Ignited with something held in their upturned palms. They did not speak, but held the object in their hands with reverence.

    Phaidros got halfway through the temple when he realized why he felt so heavy. It was the weight of expectation. He would not be the first to be ignited so quickly with such a daunting task ahead of him, nor would he be the last. Those stories ended in either one of two ways: the Ignited shining brightly and fiercely before they were quickly snuffed out by the world, or their burning brightness made them Shaped. More often it was the former. By now he knew it was too late to back out. He walked ahead in silence, his features locked on Suneater, his jaw clenched and breath held in his chest.

    The Suneater raised a hand as Phaidros neared the base of the great root and the final, rogue cheers were silenced. A quiet moment passed while Suneater watched Phaidros from on high. ¡°We are gathered here today to welcome the newest member to our order. Phaidros, son of Zaharias,¡± Suneater began, gesturing to the man before him, ¡°who was slain and now walks in the memory of the world with his ancestors and his ancestors before him. May his soul find its ideal self in his new life where it could not in its old.¡± Suneater and all those present dipped their heads in respect, Phaidros fighting back tears as he stared upward toward Suneater. The moment of silence passed and the Ideal continued, ¡°Phaidros, the ritual we partake in today is not just an igniting of a soul to further its potential but a binding contract between you and the Exalted Sovereign. He will grant you power and eternal life and in return, he asks but one thing: improve yourself, become the best you that you can be, and seek not only to survive and live in this world but to thrive in it. Do you understand the responsibilities expected of you?¡±

    A new weight fell over Phaidros, different from the presence of the Suneater or the gaze of all of the Ignited in the room watching him. He fought the urge to look around even as he felt something pressing in on his very soul, like someone had rested an anvil on his chest. ¡°I understand,¡± he replied, throat dry and voice barely above a whisper.

    Suneater nodded, then stepped down from the root, the two Ignited at the base clearing way for the Ideal, each dropping to one knee and lifting up the object they held to them as they passed. It was a sword, sheathed in a scabbard that looked like it belonged on some storied king¡¯s belt. Suneater lifted the sword with care, speaking in a voice loud enough for the rest of the temple to hear, addressing them all, ¡°Then let us begin.¡± They drew the blade from its scabbard with a hiss of steel. As it exited its sheath it blazed in a glorious white fire, the fire of potential made manifest and physical in this world as it bathed the whole temple in its glorious light. Suneater held it aloft and Phaidros stared in awe at its beauty. The blade was like nothing he had ever seen, as if it had captured the very essence of all that was divine and regal and was molded in their image. Even Suneater looked up at the blade with some manner of awe. ¡°Behold, a blade of the Exalted Sovereign. His final gift to what would become the Order of the Ignited before his ascension. This and all of its kin stand as a reminder of everything that we stand for.¡± Suneater lowered the blade, pointing it at Phaidros. ¡°That we must all give a piece of ourselves so the rest may prosper. That no one person must stand against a cruel and unforgiving world alone. With this piece of the Exalted Sovereign himself, we may elevate any who wish to better themselves no matter their background, no matter how much they¡¯ve suffered in the past.¡± They brought the blade back so some of the still-burning blade rested against their palm without burning them. They stepped closer to Phaidros. ¡°Kneel, Young Phaidros, and speak the tenets of his world and in so doing, allow you to take your first steps forward in a new, better life.¡± Phaidros kneeled before them, eyes cast to the stone ground beneath. Suneater raised their voice, beckoning to all present to join in as they began the tenets. ¡°We do not pray amidst the pews.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°We roar on the field of battle!¡± the Ignited chanted back, Phaidros joining them, albeit quietly.

    ¡°We care not from where your blood reigns,¡± Suneater called.

    ¡°Only where it is spilled!¡± the Ignited replied in unison. Phaidros took a deep breath, the warmth of the presence of all the Ignited around him filling him with some measure of confidence to fight back the doubt that plagued his mind.

    ¡°Separated we are led astray!¡± Suneater¡¯s voice increased in volume and something was happening within Phaidros as the blade in Suneater¡¯s hands rested on Phaidros¡¯ shoulder.

    ¡°United our valor is known!¡± the Ignited answered. As Phaidros looked up toward Suneater, he no longer saw the Ideal but two, piercing, glowing blue eyes staring back at him, pupils narrow much like a feline¡¯s.

    ¡°We set ourselves apart in our deeds!¡± Suneater¡¯s voice rose one final time, though to Phaidros, it sounded like he was far away, the temple around him bleeding away and hidden by a thick and heavy fog. Those eyes staring him down were unblinking, curious, it seemed, to see if Phaidros would say the final words.

    ¡°So the sum of our whole grows stronger,¡± Phaidros spoke, no longer hearing the Ignited that had surrounded him before, but still felt the blade lift off of one shoulder and touch the other. His voice echoed through the fog with no reply to answer him. He was alone with those eyes, the only thing he could make out through the fog. They were both as small as a house cat¡¯s and as vast as the open sky as his mind struggled to perceive what was in front of him. Was he alone now? He wasn¡¯t sure. His gaze turned this way and that and saw nothing. His gaze eventually returned to the eyes before him and he let out a hesitant ¡°Hello?¡±

    Silence¡­

    Then, he felt a breeze flow through, disturbing the fog around him, allowing him to see curls and shapes within. On the sudden wind came new scents, the fresh dew of a spring morning, the smell of cities burning followed by the new fresh air that took its place in the aftermath. A cacophony of sounds, the sounds of natural life with birds in the trees and insects buzzing, of men and women fighting and bellowing war cries and dying, of steel ringing against steel. The more Phaidros tried to focus on what he was hearing however, he was surprised to be able to make out words. <i>You have much potential, Phaidros, yet I can feel the fear and doubt that surrounds you. Are you sure this is what you want?</i>

    Phaidros¡¯ jaw gaped, was that the Exalted Sovereign himself? How did he even respond? How did he react? Finally finding his wits, he responded. ¡°I-I have seen what the price of failure is, my lord¡±¡ªwas that what you were supposed to address him as?¡ª¡°I mean, Sovereign One, and I fear that I will be the next victim of it.¡± He paused before adding, ¡°I know I must move forward. That is all I can do.¡±

    The wind blew around him again and with it the sounds and scents of blood soaking the ground before it too fed new plant and animal life in what was once lost. <i>And that is why you will not fail. Many will be gripped by fear and despair and dig their heels into the soil in the hopes that change will not come for them. Life is change and uncertainty. To become paralyzed by this is to accept stagnation over growth, death over life.</i>

    The God¡¯s words made the tension Phaidros was holding release, if only somewhat. ¡°I must move forward for the sake of my brother and the memory of my father. I won¡¯t let fear rule me, most exalted one, I promise.¡±

    Life grew and thrived and between groaning trees and whistling birds the God¡¯s voice came forth once more. <i>A promise made of selflessness, how refreshing. Yet that is not why you fight. You fight for survival, to cling to what once was. If you do not let go, then you will share your brother¡¯s fate.</i>

    Phaidros lost his words. ¡°I will,¡± he assured, both himself and his God.

    <i>You must,</i> the voice returned through the sounds of roaring beasts. <i>I command you to thrive, Phaidros, I will accept nothing less, nor will the world around you. Show the world who you are.</i>

    Warmth followed, oppressive warmth, a flash of fire that seemed to surround every fiber of his being and roar to life. He could see the tendrils of it lashing around him. The suddenness of the experience forced him to gasp and with that breath his perception snapped back to the temple.

    It was as if every breath before had been shallow, tainted, in some way, like a person living in a smog-filled city breathing fresh air for the first time in their life. Phaidros blinked, once, twice, as he saw, truly saw, the world around him for the first time. The colors of his surroundings seemed to become more saturated and detailed. He could outline each individual furrow of the bark-like skin of Suneater above him, the individual leaves behind their head and a few insects buzzing through the air far behind them. Sound came in as the roar of celebration of his fellow Ignited finally tuned through his senses, different pitches and tones being able to be picked out through the raucous uproar.

    Phaidros looked down at his hands in some disbelief, the words of the Exalted Sovereign echoing in his head. <i>Life is change and uncertainty.</i> Just a day ago he had been under the protection of his father, a worthy warrior of the Ignited, and his brother only months prior to that. Before all that he would have disagreed with the Exalted Sovereign but now? His words rang true. He felt within himself the fire that burned and raged, eager to feed and grow. It made it difficult not to run out into the jungle right now and try to seek vengeance immediately, but he stuffed the thought back down. The darkness of uncertainty had been washed away through divine purpose and an innate sense of belonging from being surrounded by so many familiar flames as his. Yet even then he could feel it creeping along the edges of his mind, like a predator waiting beyond the light of a campfire, ready to strike the moment it flickered. A nervous smile finally spread across his face as he looked around at his new brothers and sisters and up at Suneater. ¡°Thank you all,¡± he said, his voice somehow coming out stronger than it had all day. ¡°I swear on this day that I will live up to the expectations of the Exalted Sovereign, you all, and myself. Today I will no longer live but thrive as you all strive to do.¡±

    ¡°And so it is spoken and so the contract is sealed. Welcome, Phaidros, to the Order of the Ignited,¡± Suneater said, expression unmoving despite the warm tones carried on the wind of their voice. ¡°Let whatever past there was before this moment be forgotten, all that matters now is the path ahead, and the steps you take through it.¡± The Suneater waved a hand, signaling the others were free to do as they wished.

    Many approached Phaidros, hands clasping onto his shoulder and personally welcoming him to the order, others left. Through the crowd he could finally see Zenovia leaning against one of the walls, arms folded and waiting with a barely perceivable smile on her otherwise fierce expression. Sacred Suneater also seemed to be waiting upon him.

    When there were only the three of them left Phaidros glanced between them. ¡°So¡­ what happens now?¡±

    ¡°The most important part,¡± Zenovia cut in. ¡°We get to give you your armor and you get to pick out a weapon to focus on.¡±

    ¡°Just one?¡± Phaidros asked curiously. Whatever this creature he was to face was like, he felt like he¡¯d need every tool available to him to be able to best it.

    Suneater answered this time. ¡°It¡¯s much easier to improve yourself when you have just one path to focus on. Once an Ignited has gained enough mastery of a weapon they tend to pick another to focus on. I¡¯ve seen some Ignited covered head to toe in different weapons and tools.¡±

    Phaidros nodded. ¡°Where do we go, then?¡±

    ¡°I had contracted one of our smiths, Daxia, to prepare your selections. It should be ready now,¡± Suneater answered.

    ¡°It still seems odd to me that there are those in the Ignited that are not warriors,¡± Phaidros mused.

    ¡°Based on the tenets, one would think that, but no. There are many battlefields in life, young one. Some find it out in the jungles, others in surgery rooms, and some in their forges.¡± Phaidros had never thought of it like that, and it only made him curious to actually go meet one of the smiths. ¡°No more questions for now. Go you both, you have only a month from now to kill your beast and it would be a shame if we wasted it all on questions about the order. You will find her in her workshop in the Smith¡¯s district, workshop number thirty-six.¡±

    Both Phaidros and Zenovia bowed to Sacred Suneater in respect. ¡°Thank you, Sacred Suneater, for your assistance in this,¡± Phaidros said. Suneater only nodded in response. Phaidros and Zenovia then left the temple to go find this ¡®Daxia.¡¯

    *

    The Smith¡¯s District was between the roads that led out to gates two and three in the northeast of the city. The city itself built as near a perfect circle as can be, with all nine roads spiralling outwards towards the 9 gates that lined the edge equidistant from one another. Each ¡®District¡¯ was between one of these roads. This excluded the Merchant¡¯s District, which was the city¡¯s one connection to the outside galaxy at large and was left outside of the wall. The Smith¡¯s District provided a break between the overgrown look of the city, with most of the branches and roots steering clear. The buildings were still small, each made to house a singular smith¡¯s forge and workshop, but were made out of newer, fabricated stone rather than whatever was made in the city¡¯s origin. In front of each workshop was a sign with a number on it, correlating with which street it was on and position in the row. Phaidros couldn¡¯t help but notice how the air differed here from everywhere else, like fire and ash. His new senses forced him to taste the smell of industry that permeated the Smith¡¯s District.

    Eventually the two Ignited made it to Daxia¡¯s workshop. Above the double doors was a sign painted in galactic common that read Daxia¡¯s Hoard. ¡°This is it,¡± Zenovia said, examining the building. ¡°I don¡¯t remember any smiths named Daxia. Must be a newer arrival. Hopefully she isn¡¯t too burnt to be of use.¡±

    Phaidros frowned. ¡°Suneater has to know the situation we¡¯re in and gave us someone they knew would be able to help us.¡±

    ¡°Suneater might have also given us the worst of the bunch to give us more of a challenge, it¡¯s always a toss-up.¡± She sighed, stepping towards the door and knocking. ¡°Let¡¯s see which it is.¡±

    Silence followed. From here, Phaidros could pick up the sound of something burning on the inside pause before a voice from the inside called out, ¡°It¡¯s open.¡± Without any further invitation the two opened the door and stepped inside.

 Chapter 4

    Chapter 4

    The war we wage within ourselves does not care whether you are a soldier or an artist. Each of us finds conflict in our lives, each of us has our own battlefield to conquer. Let those who toil in the fields and workshops be as mighty in your eyes as those that wield the blade.

    -Collected Teachings of the Exalted Sovereign

    The first thing Phaidros thought as he stepped into Daxia¡¯s workshop was that the word ¡®hoard¡¯ described it perfectly. Where he had expected to see an armory of clearly distinct racks of weapons and sets of armor, instead he saw a cluttered mess. In one pile was a collection of swords and axes haphazardly placed atop one another. Against one wall were racks of pistols, rifles, bows and their quivers all competing for the same studs keeping them from falling to the floor. A few metal exoskeletons flanked the back weapon rack like statues. The actual counters were covered in what Phaidros could only assume were half-finished products and the only clean spot Phaidros managed to find was the front desk in the middle of the room in front of the door.

    He looked at Zenovia with a small grimace. Zenovia had a plain look of disappointment on her face before the two finally looked into the workshop proper to their left.

    There, amidst all of the machinery and tools that made up the forge was a single set of ignited armor on a stand that had various mechanical arms with different ends currently not in use. The black chitin plating gave it the appearance of a sinuous bug, with small ridges forming where the plates interlocked with one another. It seemed¡­ rather ordinary from what Phaidros had seen before, save for the left gauntlet being larger than what was standard. What then caught his attention was the Ignited currently fiddling with something Phaidros couldn¡¯t see beneath one of the plates.

    Daxia hadn¡¯t even bothered to look at them when they had entered, clearly too focused on her work. She wore the same uniform that Zenovia and Phaidros wore but seemed to only be keeping it draped over her shoulders rather than properly wearing it, revealing a plain shirt that might have been white but was covered in oil and grease stains. Those were the normal things he noticed. Everything else was not what he expected. Two near-black, jagged horns extended out from Daxia¡¯s head backwards in an arc. Her cream-colored hair could be described more like a mane that had been tied back out of her face in a messy ponytail while she worked, revealing two sharply pointed ears. Beneath her hairline and creeping into all of her olive-brown face were scales a similar color to her horns and extended down her neck. He found similar scales to be covering her hands which each ended in chipped, claw-like nails. Behind her he noticed a spined tail as long as she was tall, which was hard to gauge while she sat, and ended in a tuft of fur similar in color to her hair.

    She finally looked up to them and Phaidros could now see her eyes. The pupils were serpentine slits surrounded by deep crimson as if a black sword rested against molten-hot iron. To Phaidros she looked like a demon that had crawled its way out of the old stories and into the world. She sat up straighter and Phaidros felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

    She then let out a big yawn. The motion revealed two lines on either corners of her mouth that separated to show darker red skin as her jaw extended way farther than Phaidros thought would be possible. ¡°You¡¯re Phaidros, right?¡± she asked, rubbing at one eye with the back of her hand. She sounded exhausted, and way less intimidating than Phaidros had expected. He looked over to Zenovia who stared at Daxia with surprise.

    ¡°You¡¯re a longshi,¡± she said.

    Daxia sighed. ¡°Here we go¡­¡±

    ¡°longshi?¡± Phaidros blinked. ¡°Like¡­ a dragon?¡± he said in disbelief. There were many tales about dragons, most of them horrifying, and from what Phaidros understood, mostly in opposition to the Order of the Ignited.

    ¡°Alright.¡± She put up her hands. ¡°Let¡¯s just stop this before it starts. You¡¯re here for your armor right, kid?¡±

    The fire of his potential burning within him gave him the strength to answer her¡ªand to not ask her a million questions about dragons. ¡°Yes, sorry. I¡¯m Phaidros and this is Zenovia, it is nice to meet you, Daxia.¡±

    She nodded in appreciation as he changed the subject. ¡°Yeah,¡± she answered simply before she looked back at the armor, ¡°I was just finishing her up. I had to work all through the night to get the plates all fashioned right. Annoying things were rather stubborn about becoming all you-shaped.¡± She gestured vaguely to Phaidros, before continuing, ¡°So I couldn¡¯t afford to do anything fancy with it.¡±

    Phaidros felt a question about what that was supposed to mean on his lips followed by a pang of guilt. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, thank you for the effort though. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be fine.¡± He looked up to the armor, approaching it curiously, leaning in to inspect the gauntlet. ¡°Though I did notice the uneven gauntlets. Why is that?¡±

    ¡°Ah, right. I did add one thing,¡± she said with a slow nod and pushed herself off her chair. She was about a foot shorter than both Zenovia and Phaidros, which put her horns at dangerous eye level. Her tail swayed behind her as she opened up a plate and tapped on unseen buttons. From the underside of the gauntlet the plate lifted and a chitin pointed much like a stinger launched forward and stabbed at the open air in front of its hand. Phaidros let out a surprised sound and leapt back to safety; Daxia only grinned. ¡°It¡¯s always good to have a little extra surprise out there.¡± She grinned sheepishly. ¡°If you don¡¯t like the look of the set, don¡¯t worry about it. The plates all start to change as you wear them anyway.¡±

    Phaidros blinked. ¡°They do?¡±

    Zenovia spoke up, ¡°The chitin you see on the armor is reactive to your potential. People still debate on the exact cause but the general agreement is that it becomes a reflection of the person beneath the armor as people begin to associate the two as one.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s incredible,¡± Phaidros said. ¡°Where do you get the chitin then?¡±

    Daxia pointed down. ¡°There¡¯s some insect found all over the galaxy if you dig around in the earth enough. They¡¯re large and just as the lady put it they¡¯re extremely reactive to potential. The smiths put out commissions to hunt them for their chitin and we fashion it onto the exoskeletons you see there.¡± She jerked a clawed thumb back to some of the exoskeletons the two had seen earlier. ¡°Great stuff, real tough against most threats, only gets tougher as you become shaped, defined, and so on, and it has the benefit of just growing back if it gets damaged.¡±

    ¡°Dasos has a few of those cave systems that reach down that far,¡± Zenovia added. ¡°Suneater sends us out on hunts for them sometimes if the supply is low.¡±

    Phaidros remembered hearing children¡¯s stories of giant insects crawling out of caves to snatch up disobedient and unruly children in the night. Those always got tears out of him and required his brother or his father to try and calm him down. The thought made his curiosity die a little as he remembered his father¡¯s fate. ¡°Must be difficult,¡± he said distractedly.

    Zenovia seemed to pick up on something wrong and spoke again. ¡°Why don¡¯t you try it on? Then we can figure out your weapon.¡±

    Phaidros nodded and Daxia opened up another plate and pressed a few buttons. The entire front of the armor opened up, making it so Phaidros could just step into it. ¡°It¡¯ll be a little snug in there but you¡¯ll get used to it.¡± Phaidros approached the armor wearily and slid into place, the armor closing around him with a hiss of various airlocks and seals. ¡°The suit has a neural net attached to it that¡¯ll sync up with your thoughts so once you get the hang of everything you¡¯ll be able to use all of the suit¡¯s systems as if it were second nature.¡± She closed the panel and knocked on the shoulder. ¡°Take a few steps around for me will you?¡± She walked away from the other Ignited to rummage around at one of the far tables.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    In front of Phaidros¡¯ face the three slits that made up the visor shimmered before suddenly he had an unobstructed view of everything in front of him. Various notifications began cycling through his vision as he looked around. All of the weapon pile silhouettes began to be highlighted red while Zenovia and Daxia were highlighted in blue. The data stream was fast but Phaidros found that he was able to follow all of it, which he was certain was thanks to his new powers as an Ignited. He took one step forward and was surprised at how light his whole body felt, which in turn made him stumble off of the armor stand before catching himself.

    ¡°Careful there,¡± Zenovia said, arms out as if to catch him if he fell. ¡°One wrong thought and you¡¯ll smash through the wall.¡±

    ¡°Break my workshop and I¡¯ll break you,¡± Daxia chimed in from the side, finally turning around to reveal she was getting herself coffee. She took an idle sip.

    Phaidros took a second step that was much more coordinated than the first as he walked back and forth through the workshop. ¡°I feel light,¡± he commented, though Zenovia raised an eyebrow and Daxia was smirking. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The voice encoder is on,¡± Zenovia pointed out with a sigh. ¡°We can¡¯t understand a word you¡¯re saying. Turn it off.¡±

    Phaidros had no idea how to turn it off but he tried to focus on that thought. A small flash of text in the corner of his display highlighted, reading encoder disabled. ¡°Like this?¡±

    ¡°There we go,¡± Daxia said with a grin, her tail swaying behind her in satisfaction. ¡°Nice and easy, yeah?¡± Phaidros nodded and she gestured with a free hand towards the various piles of weapons around the workshop. ¡°Take your pick.¡±

    Phaidros looked around to the cluttered weapons with some wariness. ¡°Any of them?¡±

    ¡°Yes, just try not to disturb the piles too much.¡±

    ¡°Why do you keep this place so cluttered anyway?¡± Zenovia asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not cluttered,¡± Daxia snapped back. ¡°Everything has its place so I can remember where it is.¡±

    ¡°You can do that while keeping the place clean,¡± Zenovia replied flatly.

    While the two argued, Phaidros carefully picked his way across the room to take a look at his options. He thought back to better days of his father teaching him how to use a sword with Charon watching close by. Phaidros had been an eager learner at the time, before everything changed. He didn¡¯t want to just default to a sword without seeing the rest of his options, however. He walked over to the pile of guns on the counter and squinted, nervous to try and move any of them without invoking the longshi¡¯s wrath. His visor began to pick out the silhouettes again with small blurbs of text identifying them. ¡°I don¡¯t see too many Ignited that use ranged weapons like these,¡± Phaidros mused. ¡°Why is that?¡±

    Zenovia was the one to answer. ¡°A lot of people think there¡¯s less ¡®danger¡¯ in picking something with range behind it. It¡¯s easier to learn how to use a rifle but people are often disappointed at what they believe is a ¡®low skill ceiling.¡¯¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Phaidros asked, brow furrowed.

    ¡°It means,¡± Daxia replied, ¡°that Ignited prefer weapons that are harder to master and more rewarding when they do. It is better for the potential to be able to face an enemy with a sword in hand than it does with a gun because there is more personal risk and reward, or something like that.¡±

    ¡°Seems like an odd thing to focus on when someone can just shoot you from afar and be done with it,¡± Phaidros answered.

    Zenovia sighed. ¡°Yeah well, things start to get complicated once you get to Shaped and beyond. Daxia said it herself, the armor becomes stronger once you advance, making most attempts to harm you useless without some special trick of your own.¡± She gestured to the suit. ¡°Besides, a normal Ignited in one of these suits can dodge or parry bullets more often than not and energy weapons bounce off the chitin or just crack the plating. If you¡¯re hunting, some beasts just don¡¯t care about being shot if they¡¯ve advanced their potential enough.¡± Phaidros could sense some bitterness in her voice as she said that. Daxia only hummed thoughtfully and took another sip of her coffee.

    ¡°Why do you use a rifle then?¡± Phaidros asked, turning towards the older ignited.

    Zenovia¡¯s expression fell. ¡°When you¡¯re in the thick of it, too many people on the front lines can get messy and it can be beneficial for whoever you¡¯re fighting with as a whole to have variety. That¡­ and being a mighty hero on the front lines is all well and good until someone with a shaped power bullet or arrow completely ignores your fancy armor. Sure, it isn¡¯t an honorable kill, but honor hardly matters when you¡¯re still alive from making a shot more than a mile away and your big scary opponent with a sword is now dead before they even knew you were there.¡±

    Phaidros stared in stunned silence, letting that thought sink in. He could pick a ranged weapon like that too, be someone¡¯s death before they even realized what was happening to them. Was that really what he wanted though? His stream of thoughts was interrupted by Zenovia continuing, ¡°Besides, it doesn¡¯t matter much if we¡¯re not fighting ignited or shaped creatures. My aim¡¯s still good and I can line up a shot that¡¯ll kill three normal men in a single trigger pull if I wanted to.¡±

    Phaidros watched her for a moment longer before returning his attention to the gun pile. That was true he was sure, but even then his father still died while she lived. He hesitated, thinking maybe it would be safer this way, but then decided against it and moved to his original point of interest, the blade pile.

    He had always liked carrying a sword; it made him feel like he was some fabled hero of old only remembered in myths. His emerald eyes trailed across the pile, suit highlighting as needed until he spotted one sword in particular. A sword a little shorter than he was tall. It had blue wrappings around the long hilt with enough room for him to be able to grip it easily in two hands, with a black metal cross guard and pommel, and a vibrant silver edge that extended down into the tangled mess and coming to a point at the end somewhere beneath. It was simple yet elegant, a longsword worthy of some long-dead knight. It stuck out of the pile like a sword sheathed in a nest of steel. He grabbed the hilt and carefully pulled at it. There was a strange feeling of tension as the sword was freed from the tangled confines of its brothers and sisters. The pile remained intact when the sword was finally free and he let out a sigh of relief that he was once more spared the potential wrath of an angry dragon. He held it up to the lights, finding it lighter than he initially thought it would be as he examined his reflection in the steel. Something felt right when he held it and he smiled to himself. ¡°This will do I think.¡± He would be able to honor his father¡¯s memory this way, yet this sword was also his own, a large, simple sword as opposed to two elegant and graceful curved blades. With a nod to himself, the decision was made.

    ¡°A bit traditional,¡± Daxia commented, ¡°but a good sword will treat you right if you treat it right. If it starts to wear down just bring it back to me and I¡¯ll fix it up good as new.¡±

    Phaidros nodded and smiled towards the smith, though she couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°Thank you, Daxia, I will be sure to do so.¡±

    ¡°Think you can make some rounds that¡¯ll punch through a shaped creature¡¯s hide?¡± Zenovia asked.

    Daxia hummed, scratching at her scaled neck with her claws. ¡°That¡¯s a tall order without a shaped weapon. I might be able to come up with something though, I¡¯ll have to see what the merchants can bring me. I¡¯ll get back to you on that, just give me a few weeks.¡± Zenovia tensed, that was cutting it close, Phaidros knew, but the other Ignited nodded. ¡°Alright if that¡¯s all then please leave,¡± Daxia said with a shooing gesture. ¡°I got more commissions to work on. The blade will magnetize to the back of your armor so don¡¯t worry about needing a sheath.¡±

    Phaidros felt some sense of pity for Daxia but nodded with an unseen smile. Zenovia reached up and patted him on the shoulder guard. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s move on.¡± Without any further delay, the two left Daxia¡¯s workshop. Zenovia led the way with an armored Phaidros following soon after with the blade resting against his shoulder. Phaidros couldn¡¯t help but notice that Zenovia still seemed bitter.

    ¡°We have a lot of work to do, Phaidros, so please, listen and don¡¯t make me repeat myself,¡± Zenovia said dryly as she took them back towards the housing district they both resided in.

    ¡°I won¡¯t. Where are we heading first?¡±

    ¡°The jungle. I don¡¯t need you crashing through buildings because you accidentally activated your jets and blasted through someone¡¯s living room.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not that green.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what they all say when they first wear the armor, I did, then two days later I got my head and shoulders stuck in a temple ceiling.¡±

    Phaidros¡¯ eyebrows raised. He wouldn¡¯t have expected a skilled hunter like Zenovia to have such issues when she started. ¡°Point taken,¡± he muttered.

    With that, the two made a quick stop at Zenovia¡¯s house for her to get her gear, then they made their way down the main road and towards the jungle. One month¡­ would he truly be ready by then? A rogue spark of dread wormed its way down his spine before he let the gentle warmth of his burning potential mask it. The flame made it easier to simply ignore those negative feelings. In that comforting warmth new resolve started to flicker into being. He would avenge his father, or die trying.