Aren woke up in his bed at the temple. His skin felt itchy, and he couldn’t help but wince as he instinctively scratched at it. The massive surge of Sun’s holy energy left his skin raw. He felt as though he’d been cooked for hours in the sun, an analogy that was becoming uncomfortably accurate. He wiped the crust from his eyes, yawned, and then got up.

  “You are finally up,” Wes commented, sitting on his own bed, his blade across his knees as he performed its maintenance.

  Gazing groggily around, he noticed it was already well past morning prayer. He had gone to sleep as soon as he was released from the questioning. Still, that had been well past midnight, and the well done healing took more from him than he wanted to admit.

  Seeing the uncomfortable look Wes was giving him, Aren hesitated in his greeting.

  “Your hair looks like a spotted desert rat, just more colorful,” Lan chuckled. Unlike his brother, he looked relaxed as he lay on his bed.

  Aren felt like sighing. The supposed washable dye refused to be fully removed from his hair, even after multiple rinses. It left spots and streaks of light blue and violet on his otherwise dark hair. He wondered if it might be a side effect of modifying his pigment. All he could do was hope it would go away in a few days after more washing.

  He had managed to put on a loose white linen shirt and pants before climbing into bed. The bloodied clothes from yesterday lay in a tangled mess beside his pack. Now that the blood had dried, he doubted he could do anything with them without magic. He would clean and repair them when they left the city. It was a waste to throw them away.

  “So, what happened yesterday?” Wes tried to maintain calm through his impatience and irritation. “You only told us that you kidnapped the Luminous One and got stabbed before dropping onto your bed.

  “In the morning, the Holy Exemplar told us to skip the morning prayer and wait here. Are we awaiting execution?”

  “Sorry about that,” Aren felt bad about leaving the man even more confused. “Technically there was no kidnapping, as Crina went with us of her own will. She wanted to enjoy the festival a little bit, since this was probably the last time she ever could. Marie ordered this to remain secret. It seems the disguise with my medallion was enough to hide her identity, even from the people who attacked me, so no one but us and a few of her soldiers know about it.”

  “... That’s insane,” Lan commented. “I don’t even know.”

  “Was that my sister’s idea?” Bar’tik asked, waking from a nap. “I was quite confused when I first learned that the two of you snuck out for a date. Sounds like something she would do.”

  “Well, I did support it,” Aren shrugged.

  “How are you so casual about this?!” Wes yelled, massaging his temples. “What if something had happened to the Luminous One? You disobeyed the direct order of the Exemplar!”

  “I think what I did was right,” Aren said calmly. “In the end, nothing bad happened to her.”

  “And how did you end up getting stabbed?” Wes asked.

  “That… was my fault,” Aren said. “At least partially. I met a few soldiers on the second day of the festival. They accosted me, and I defended myself with my barrier. Then, yesterday, one of them was on patrol and recognized me. He convinced the others to rid the Exemplar and the Luminous One of the embarrassment that Mar’tei and I bring them.”

  “Just because of that?” Bar’tik grit his teeth, his voice tinged with anger.

  “Apparently, a small group of garrison soldiers found a common bond after my arrival, their hate for magic and Vo’Teol. They ended up spurring each other on until yesterday happened,” Aren explained, recounting what they had managed to investigate.

  “Can you explain what occurred step by step,” Wes said slowly, half giving up.

  Aren nodded. “We snuck Crina out, then enjoyed the festival, with flower viewing, dancing, and food stalls. Then she wanted to visit the old artisan district, since it will be a point of discussion with the governor. When we decided to head back, I got stabbed.”

  He shifted on the bed as his skin itched. “After I subdued the three soldiers, Marie found us and healed me. When Mar’tei and I explained the situation to her, she launched an investigation into the attack. The three soldiers quickly confessed their motivation, which led us to the palace after delivering Crina to the temple. That’s about it. The governor apologized, the three attackers are imprisoned and awaiting judgment. Oh, and the other soldiers who don’t view us favorably were ordered to patrol the villages until we leave.”

  He did not mention that the governor had prostrated himself before the Exemplar and bowed in apology. He also withheld that the three soldiers were awaiting judgment from him, as he was supposed to decide their fate as the aggrieved party. Marie told him they should be executed, and he half agreed.

  Normally, he would have killed them for trying to hurt him, but now that they were behind bars, it felt pointless. Somehow, he also doubted it would improve the general view of mages. Maybe he could find a way to use it to a positive effect.

  “That’s… and what about us?” Wes asked.

  “I think Marie won’t push us on that front, but I can’t be sure,” Aren said. “Crina looked ready to defend us at least. I doubt she will kick you out, since you are part of my cover, and I don’t think she has found a force to replace me yet, although she may be looking for a way to do that.”

  “That does not sound comforting,” Wes said, fearing for his future chances of working with the church.

  “I will have to watch over my sister more than usual,” Bar’tik said gravely. “I didn’t know this country was this dangerous, and she cannot use magic in the cities.”

  “It will get worse the further south we go,” Lan quipped, causing Aren to raise an eyebrow. “In the north, we have had peaceful dealings with Vo’Teol over the last few years, especially in trade for materials and food. Down south, I heard they are much more traditional and strict.”

  “People here are not strict?” Aren asked incredulously.

  “Not as much, at least,” Lan added. “I’ve never been beyond the Sun’s River myself, but when we were young, an older man traveled through our village. He naturally awakened a mana sense late in life and was kicked out by his family. No one offered him work, and he was forced to travel north. He left for Vo’Teol afterwards. He sounded tired and defeated.”

  “That’s because you bombarded him with questions until he gave in,” Wes amended.

  Lan shrugged as Aren considered what he had just learned. He would need to find a way to make sure he and Mar’tei were safe. At the very least, he would not walk around without his armor again. He would also need to work on his instincts, so he could quickly decide what could be handled using just his barrier relic and when he needed to start using magic.

  Maybe he could give his old armor to Mar’tei. It was made of dragon-mutated rock giant leather. It was slightly heavier than his current one, but the young woman was more fit than him, and he doubted it would slow her down. He just needed access to his storage artifact and then to find a craftsman who could adjust it for her.

  The room fell silent as each man considered his own thoughts. Wes looked worried, constantly watching the door. Lan seemed to be enjoying his late morning break, and Bar’tik was now concerned that his sister had been left alone.

  When the door swung open, Marie stepped inside with a blank expression. The two Ayru warriors quickly stood and saluted, only to be left confused when Crina and Mar’tei entered, the Luminous One positioning herself protectively in front of the other young woman. Mar’tei’s face was slightly pale, but she looked to be recovering already.

  He noticed that both of their hair colors were perfectly normal, unlike his own. He even felt that all three women had glanced at his colorful mess of hair, but their faces remained serious. He was not sure whether he should be glad that whatever had occurred was important enough for them to ignore it.

  When the door closed, Crina exploded. “You will not geas any of them either!”

  Aren stood up instantly. “You what?!”

  Bar’tik rose as well, his eyes glowing azure as he restrained himself from attacking the woman outright. The two brothers stood rooted in place, Lan looking surprised and the older brother terrified at the sight of the two men now standing defiantly before an Exemplar.

  “I wasn’t going to,” the woman said stoically. “I came here to inform you, Aren, that if anything like that happens in the future, I will prosecute you with the full authority granted to me by the Prophet-King. My life be damned, I will slay you if I have to die while doing so.”

  Aren ignored the threat and turned to Crina. “What was this about the geas?”

  Marie stepped into his face and seethed, “Did you not hear me?”

  “I did,” Aren answered calmly. “I think you are overreacting, but you are the officer of the law. Feel free to do what you think is right. I will do the same.”

  “You endangered the life of the Luminous One! You could have ruined over a thousand years of staving off the darkness!”

  “It was safe. The only reason we were attacked was because you refused to help with this. Had your guards been around, this would have been prevented,” Aren countered.

  “You don’t know that,” she said. “You were stabbed by third-rate warriors, and you claim you were enough to protect her.”

  “I was stabbed because my attention wasn’t on myself, and I held back my magic, delaying my reaction,” he said.

  “And if they were any better, you would be dead,” she said, pointing her finger and poking painfully at the site of his wound.

  “Unlikely,” Aren answered, but did not explain that he had contingencies hidden in his mind vault.

  The two powerhouses ended up staring into each other’s eyes for an uncomfortable moment, until Crina stepped between them. She opened her mouth, facing the Exemplar.

  “I will not do anything like that again. I already promised. It was my choice to do this,” Crina said forcefully. “They gave me a choice, and I took it. It was my selfish desire. Had I denied them, it would have ended there.”

  Marie glanced at her, and for a moment her gaze shifted. Instead of looking like an angry defender of justice, she looked like a disappointed older sister. She coughed into her fist as calmness returned to her face, before looking at Aren again.

  “I already said what I needed to,” Marie said, before turning away. “You are free to do what you wish today, although I would recommend staying near the temple. Tomorrow, all hands will be necessary for the final event.”

  Then she stopped and looked at Crina, who was still standing in front of the archmage. “We need to get ready for our discussion and dinner with the governor. Come with me.”

  Crina nodded, then turned to Aren and grabbed his hand, whispering in his ear, “Thank you again.”

  The two women left the room, leaving the five adventurers in different stages of perturbedness. Aren stared at his hand for a moment, he could still feel the residual heat. Crina must have been quite worked up over this.

  “What did that woman mean by geas? Did they do anything to you?” Bar’tik finally spoke, the azure glow in his eyes subsiding slightly.

  Aren’s mind refocused on the topic at hand. “Did you say any word of promise to her? Did you feel any holy energy touching you?”

  “Nothing. And no, and no,” Mar’tei said, trying to calm her brother. “The Exemplar is not letting Crina out of her sight. When she came to my room and spoke about putting me under a geas for the duration of the journey, Crina jumped at her like an angry sabertooth. It was quite something. It did leave me worried, though, especially when she led us to your room right after.”

  Wes sat down, his head in his hands, and Lan plopped next to him before chuckling. Four heads turned to the young warrior, one quite angry, and he raised his arms in a placating gesture to his brother.

  “I just found it quite funny that the two of them would endear themselves to the Luminous One so much that she would act like this toward her own guardian Exemplar,” Lan explained.

  Wes groaned, “I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

  “Eh, she deserves some friends,” Lan continued. “That’s what friends do, get in trouble together, then stick up for each other. Me, you, and everyone else in the Sands feel too much respect for the Luminous One to offer her that. Even the Holy Exemplar has to balance her feelings with her duty.”

  Wes shook his head, having a hard time comprehending his brother’s insights. Bar’tik clapped his hands together and nodded.

  “If you did the rather unwise act for your friend, then that’s all fine, sister,” Bar’tik said proudly. “Although warn me first next time. I was worried. Aren’s telling of the story did nothing to put me at ease.”

  “Well, maybe it’s a bit early to call us friends, but I would be proud to call her one,” Mar’tei said.

  Aren’s thoughts slowed as he realized the implication. Did he think of Crina as a friend? That would be dangerous, both emotionally and politically. He liked the young woman, but becoming personally invested in her could cause problems later.

  She was much weaker than him. That imbalance alone could be an issue. If something happened to her, would he be able to separate his responsibilities as archmage from his personal feelings? He would have to make decisions regarding Vo’Teol and Ayru relations in the future. Would those decisions be the same if she were not involved?

  There was also the fact that she would have to spend her days next to an apocalyptic monster. Letting her grow close, knowing that, felt irresponsible. He was not sure where concern ended and influence began.

  In the first place, did she even think of him as a friend? It was too soon to worry about any of that if she did not. He would need to confirm that first, though he disliked how much importance the question already seemed to carry. With his old teammates, it had been easier. They had been equals at the time, and very little politics had been involved.

  “What should we do now?” Aren asked, refocusing on the present.

  “I just asked that,” Mar’tei said, turning to him, confusion easily readable on her face.

  “I… was analyzing the situation,” Aren grimaced, wondering why the thought rattled him so much. “Sorry for not paying attention.”

  “That’s fine… are you worried about the Exemplar’s threat?” Mar’tei asked seriously.

  “Somewhat,” he said honestly. “Not for myself, but if she tries anything with any of you, you can come to me. Don’t make any promises to her. Geas are complicated, and someone much stronger can force one on an unwilling target through what you may think are meaningless words, even if they are weaker when done so.”

  “I will be careful,” Mar’tei nodded.

  “I don’t think the Honorable Exemplar would go about it in such a roundabout way,” Wes said. “She was clear about what she wanted from you, wasn’t she?”

  “True, although I have no idea what she would have done had I denied it without Crina there,” Mar’tei agreed.

  “Did she tell you what the geas would entail?” Aren asked.

  “To watch you and report any suspicious activity,” Mar’tei answered honestly. “I told her that the whole thing was my idea, but she seemed convinced it was your fault anyway.”

  “I see…” Aren let out a slow breath. It seemed the distrust the Exemplar held for him had increased.

  “So what are we going to do?” This time it was Lan who asked. “The two of us probably don’t want to enrage Exemplar Marie any further.”

  “I will try to have a private talk with Marie,” Aren said. “Maybe we can set down some ground rules that will calm her down.”

  “That may be a good idea. Show her that you are willing to work with her,” Wes said, his voice tinged with relief.

  Aren nodded. “I will do so after we leave the city, giving some time for the situation to cool down. For now, I need to deal with something more important.”

  “What is that?” Mar’tei asked.

  “Get some food, I’m hungry,” Aren said, patting his stomach with a serious expression and wincing when he touched his skin as a spike of pain ran through his body.

  Aren went to the mess hall with Wes and Lan, although it felt like they wanted to make sure he didn’t get himself into any more trouble. The few soldiers they passed either gave him an unconcerned glance or a surprised look. Marie wanted the disappearance of Crina to remain secret, so probably only a few knew the truth.

  When Marc appeared from beyond the corner, Aren cursed his luck. The man’s red eyes instantly intensified, his hand twitched, and a visible vein popped on his forehead. Aren knew that the man knew, and he held his mana at the ready near his relic. Then the man surprised him by turning around and walking away.

  He had not seen the warrior in multiple days, yet he was sure the hate the man held for him had grown. A tension left him as he relaxed his mana, and the two warriors beside him remembered to breathe.

  “That killing intent was intense,” Lan let out a breath.

  “Yeah, he does not like me,” Aren mumbled and continued on his way.

  “I think it goes beyond that,” Wes commented. “He joined Master Donnavan’s force when he was young and must have seen many depravities committed by necromancers since then.”

  “I wish he would not bundle me with that lot,” Aren said. “I’m a harmless scholar and a mage who does not always respond well to authority, not a depraved, immoral monster that seeks to corrupt all life.”

  “I don’t know where to start with that sentence,” Lan said, cracking a grin.

  Aren decided to shake off the meeting and focus on his objective as his stomach grumbled. They reached the mess hall quickly. It was mostly empty since it was past breakfast and long before the midday meal, but one person sitting there caught his attention.

  Donnavan sat alone on a cushion next to a long wooden table, with only a single bowl of cold porridge in front of him. He radiated an aura that kept the few other people in the room at bay, although that did not feel much different from usual. Yet his stony expression seemed more broody than normal.

  Aren grabbed a bowl and filled it with lukewarm porridge, dropping in one of the few remaining boiled raptor eggs. Then he sat down in front of the officer, who, upon seeing him, raised a single eyebrow but otherwise ignored him.

  He began eating, Wes and Lan sitting a distance away from him, not wanting to approach the older warrior. The food tasted bland, but he was hungry. Apologizing to the man might have been the right thing to do, but looking into the man’s stoic eyes, which no longer seemed to watch him, it felt weak, especially since he did not think he had done anything wrong beyond lying to the man. He wondered if there was anything he could do to set things straight. He had done almost everything the man told him not to do, so words would not fix anything.

  Finishing his bowl of food, he placed down the wooden spoon and said, “We skipped a training session yesterday.”

  Aren could not read the gaze the man gave him through his emotionless eyes. “That’s true. The Exemplar’s order still stands.”

  Donnavan suddenly stood up and fixed him with a look that seemed to say follow. Aren stood and stepped behind the man. Midway through the hall, the officer stopped and looked at Lan, who twitched in his sitting position.

  “Come with us if you will,” Donnavan’s voice was steady, not really commanding but also not asking.

  Lan did not ask questions and jumped to his feet instantly. Wes followed quickly after, a bit unsure if he should, but when no one told him otherwise, he walked behind his brother, the two occasionally exchanging glances that only they understood.

  The training grounds were empty. Every soldier was busy with the investigation into the criminal underground. Instantly, the older man ordered him to start on warm-ups and took the two brothers to the side. Aren obliged, the tonic’s aftertaste still present in his mouth, and began the already familiar movements, feeling a bit uncomfortable as his skin stretched, though it got better as he continued.

  Suddenly, his instinct screamed mid-stretch. He tried to twist as his relic filled with mana. The barrier half-formed first over his spine and left shoulder, but it was too late, and a painful poke hit him in the back, causing him to lose his balance. Falling to the ground, he tumbled along the sand. Picking himself up quickly, still surprised, he looked around to see what had hit him. Donnavan stood in a casual stance, his hands at his sides, a wooden sword in one hand.

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  “Is… this going to be a surprise attack training?” Aren asked.

  “You catch on quickly,” the officer nodded. “Your instincts are not too bad for a mage, but we can refine them.”

  “I would hope so. I did adventure for a long time,” he said, dusting himself off.

  “Continue with your exercises,” he said, turning away from him. Then he addressed the two brothers, “Do what I just did. If he stops you, you will then pick the heaviest cart you can pull and run with it around the training yard for ten minutes.”

  The man then stepped to the side and watched expectantly. The two brothers looked at Aren with confused glances, but he shrugged and nodded to them to go ahead. Getting stabbed again was not on his list of priorities.

  Now that he was aware of the possibility of an attack, he was alert as he lowered himself into a push-up. When he rose, he saw the shadow of a figure above him and reacted instantly. He formed a circular barrier, and a heavy wooden sword struck it with powerful force. The barrier reflected the attack, causing both arms of the warrior to be flung back, and Wes took a few stabilizing steps as Aren smiled. Then Lan slid along the sand, moving faster than he could follow. A hit landed on his wrist, pulling his hand from under him and causing him to fall painfully onto the sand.

  The lankier brother cheered by pumping his arm as Aren got to his hands and resumed the exercises after confirming that nothing had happened to his wrist. The next attack came just as he shifted to lifting weights. Just as he pulled the heavy block above his head, Lan attacked from the front, and he sensed something heavy behind his back. Instead of creating separate barriers, he encompassed himself fully. It took a blink of an eye longer, but it was quick enough. When the two brothers were sent flying back, they dutifully went to pull the carts.

  Another two attacks were blocked in the same way. The second he sensed anything, a barrier went up around him. Then, just as he lowered himself to a full squat, he felt danger coming from his right side, much faster than before. Quickly, he placed a smaller barrier and started encompassing himself. The wooden blade struck his half-formed barrier, but instead of being thrown back, it spun gracefully around, using the rebounding force, and struck his left shoulder before his barrier had time to fully close.

  Aren, sitting on the sand, stared at Donnavan, who casually returned to his previous position. He had forgotten about the older man. Maybe it was due to being focused on the two brothers, but he knew that after the fifth stage, every life practitioner could weaken their presence to some degree.

  The exchanges continued, and he managed to block all of the attacks, even when the brothers tried to trick him with delayed combination attacks. Years of living through danger and being alert had filled the gap that his lack of mind-enhancing spells created. Then, as he was gaining confidence, Donnavan moved.

  This time, he made sure to always have the swordsman in his field of vision, yet the man’s lightning-quick steps still shook him. His barrier barely encompassed him before the strike landed. A tremor ran through the courtyard as a shockwave sent sand into the air, obscuring his vision and causing a small chunk of his mana to disappear.

  When the sand subsided, he looked around to make sure he was safe, only to find that the two brothers were nowhere to be found, while the veteran warrior stood where he always had. He cautiously lowered his barrier and continued with the exercises.

  After a few more sets, he heard something swish through the air and instinctively formed a barrier behind himself. Something clanged to the floor, and he shifted to look, but just before his barrier could fully form, a lightning-quick object flew directly at his forehead. He twisted to the left, and a thin wooden sword struck his right ear painfully, leaving a red mark on his already raw skin. He winced and looked at the two brothers, who were clearly enjoying themselves.

  He shook his head silently and continued with the exercises. When he performed the last exercise from the list, he felt ready to rest. Tired, a little bruised, and heavy of breath, he barely took half a step when Donnavan told him to continue with another set. That rooted him in place for a moment, but he decided to obey, for now.

  With his increasing tiredness, the brothers managed to land more surprise attacks. Sometimes all they managed was to touch his skin around the already forming barrier, yet they seemed to count it as a win each time.

  By now, dizziness swirled in his head from the strain and heat. He blocked Lan’s surprise strike to his back, but before his barrier could fully form, Wes’s thrown spinning blade struck, knocking his left foot out from under him.

  He slammed onto the sand, winded, his limbs heavy and unresponsive, as if they had turned to cotton. The sun burned overhead, and Aren realized they had been at this for over two hours. His clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin, and every fiber of him longed for a cold drink of water.

  Near the end, Aren turned to performing internal mana exercises he knew by heart. Physical exhaustion weighed him down, but channeling his energy this way grounded his focus. As he worked, the relic on his wrist seemed to respond more fluidly, as if attuning to his protective intent. He did not know that this was possible, but it seemed that as his need grew, the relic responded more clearly.

  Aren saw Donnavan standing above him and asked, “Did I land you in a lot of trouble yesterday?”

  “Me in trouble? No, Exemplar Marie didn’t blame me for this,” Donnavan said, his voice grave. “Yet I failed her nonetheless.”

  Then the officer’s eyes intensified as he looked at the sun. “It will not happen again.”

  “I see,” he said, picking himself up from the sand. “I’m sorry for lying yesterday.”

  The man regarded him with one of his stoic expressions. “Did the Luminous One enjoy herself yesterday?”

  “I think so,” Aren answered, remembering that Crina did cry when they danced. “I’m realizing I’m not good at reading women.”

  “Who is?” was all Donnavan said before walking away. Still, he caught a glimpse of a smile on the man’s face, although he wouldn’t bet he hadn’t imagined it.

  Wes and Lan offered him a hand to get up, and he accepted the help with thanks. His whole body stung, and he was ready for a painful bath and a return to bed. First, though, he walked over to a barrel of water that stood in the doorway and gulped water from a wooden spoon.

  “That was pretty fun. You sent us running more times than I care to admit,” Lan jumped to his feet, still feeling energetic.

  “I admit it was worthwhile. I did not know I could get better with the bracelet,” Aren said after he satiated himself. “I thought it was just a matter of mana manipulation, but it seems there is more to it.”

  “Let’s spar, Wes,” Lan proposed.

  “Can we leave you—” Wes never finished his question as he suddenly tensed, his arms at the ready.

  Aren sensed the change and followed the warrior’s gaze. There stood a tall, obsidian-skinned man. His limbs felt too long for his body, and his milky eyes stared directly at him. His muscles seemed sculpted, unnatural, as if someone didn’t quite know how a human body should look. Still, he wore the governor’s insignia on his armor.

  At first, he suspected flesh modification, but that didn’t feel quite right, and he sensed no magic from the man. He knew certain prana types could lead to unique changes in a person’s physiology, but he had never seen anything quite like this. It would also mean the man was fifth-stage. He would need to protect the two warriors if it came to that, just in case he filled his bracelet with mana and it responded with a vigor he had never felt before.

  “Can we talk?” The man’s voice sounded as if someone had tried to grind rocks, his arms hanging peacefully by his side. Then he added, “Alone.”

  Aren looked at the two brothers, who were calming down from their initial impression but still looked tense. Nodding, he moved in front of them. They did not protest.

  “And who are you?” Aren asked.

  The man looked uncomfortable as his stance shifted. He spoke with clear discomfort, “My name is Kron. I’m the brother of the woman who attacked you.”

  Aren raised his eyebrows. He did not expect that. They did not look very similar. “Fine. Wes, Lan, can you leave us alone?”

  The two brothers looked at him, and Wes nodded, dragging away Lan, who wanted to protest but was silenced with a glance from his sibling. They moved away but remained within visible distance, watching from the other end of the courtyard.

  “So, what do you want?” Aren asked.

  “First, I wish to apologize for what my blood has done to you, Guardian Ren,” the man bowed low to him, surprising the mage once again. “I bear the shame for knowing of my sister’s hatred and doing nothing.”

  “I’m not going to blame you,” Aren said. He was not going to spread guilt like that, otherwise, he would have to judge the whole culture. “And what’s next?”

  “I… this is shameful to ask, but I overheard that you are to decide my sister’s and the other two’s fate,” the man admitted, his voice remorseful. “Can you please spare her a painful death?”

  “You are not going to ask me to spare her life?” Aren looked surprised. He felt his bracelet shake, probably from staying inactive while filled with energy, but he ignored it for now.

  “I would not shame her like that,” the man said matter-of-factly.

  “The exemplar advised me to choose quick execution in the Sun,” Aren said.

  “That is!” the man exclaimed, still grieving, tinged with a tiny hope that his sister’s soul could be spared.

  “Tell me though,” Aren interrupted the man’s outburst. “Why does your sister hate me so much?”

  “It’s… not rational,” the man said. “Our family has lost no blood to your people in a long time. She just… always was impressionable. She joined groups she felt were right without considering if they actually were. I tried to impart some wisdom and radiance into her, even consulted priests about it, but nothing ever worked. When she joined the governor’s force, following in my footsteps, she gravitated toward the rowdiest among them. There is no reason that could excuse her failure.”

  Aren let out a slow breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. It did nothing to make him feel better about the woman. He decided to be honest with the man. “I don’t desire her death.”

  The man straightened in shock, his milky eyes widening like saucers. “You do not? She harmed you out of pure dark spite and planned to hide your and your friend’s bodies in darkness.”

  “She was always going to fail,” Aren shrugged. “The one lucky strike was all she got. Worst case, I would need a lot of healing to recover.”

  “That’s…” The man stared at him, confused, clearly not believing his words.

  “So, it’s not attempted murder. It’s at most aggravated assault,” Aren continued. “In my country, that only carries the death penalty in very specific cases. In a case like this, I could press charges and probably expect a life sentence of hard labor, or just a few years and a heavy fine.”

  “What?” the man now seemed completely lost.

  “Sorry,” Aren sighed. “I’ll speak plainly. I don’t want her dead, but I don’t want her to walk away scot?free, either. She needs to learn that it isn’t acceptable to hurt people just because you dislike them.”

  The man could only stare at him in stunned silence.

  Seeing this, Aren paused. He had delayed thinking about the punishment until now. “Anyway, I’m still considering it. If you have any suggestions, I’d be willing to hear them. Maybe there’s a punishment that could actually teach her the lesson, and perhaps make her stop hating mages simply for existing.”

  The whiplash the man experienced was easily visible. “I… did not expect this. You are a benevolent man.”

  “I prefer practical. I gain nothing from her death,” Aren said. “I lack a proper understanding of your culture, but everything always winds back to your religion. Is there some kind of holy pilgrimage, service, or duty she could undergo?”

  “There may be,” the man spoke hesitantly. “It has been done rarely, when there is no written punishment in the law. The sinner would go to the Sun’s Peak, pray for a week at each of the temples under the guidance of the priests, and upon reaching the highest rise, beg the Sun for judgment.”

  “How does it work?” Aren prodded, considering.

  “They will pray there until the Prophet-King receives a vision. If the Sun never responds, they will die of thirst or heat,” the man said simply. “It’s the only fair way.”

  That sounded like delayed execution to Aren. “Wouldn’t it be fine if I simply told her to do social work for a few hundred hours or slay thousands of monsters?”

  “Please don’t,” the man said quickly before calming down. “I know you don’t know our ways, so I won’t hold this against you, but that would besmirch her and others’ honor forever. They would either hunt you down or commit suicide.”

  “I… don’t understand, but I get it,” Aren felt like plopping his head into the water barrel. “I will try to consult this with the Holy Exemplar then, or other priests if she does not have time.”

  The man nodded in agreement, relieved he would not need to consult this topic further. “Whatever you decide, I won’t hold it against you. I thank you for talking to me and listening. I will bother you no further.”

  Aren was awoken from his tonic-induced coma in the middle of the night by being picked up and shaken. He groggily opened his eyes and saw Bar’tik shaking him violently while his sister tried to stop him. Marie stood in the entrance of the room, an orb of intense golden light floating above her hand, illuminating her surroundings.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, adrenaline spiking from suddenly waking. He quickly looked around, but everyone was too calm for this to be an attack. Only the exemplar looked at him impatiently.

  “I think Donnavan tired you out too much yesterday,” Marie said, looking at him. “We discovered something, and your expertise is needed.”

  Placing his hands on the berserker’s arm, when he was released, he stood up. Disregarding the undignified way he had been woken, he did not feel too bad. He was still sore in a few places, but after more than ten hours of sleep, he felt good to go.

  “Lead on then,” Aren said, shaking off the last of his drowsiness.

  Hidden inside an old bookstore, beneath a large wooden shelf of baking recipes, was a ladder leading to an old basement. The underground room itself was clean. More than that, it was empty. Yet the second their group approached it, they tensed. The smell of rotting flesh permeated the area, embedding itself permanently in the walls.

  Still, that was not what worried Aren the most. The remnant spatial fluctuations were like a lit candle inside his mind, impossible to ignore. The mana still retained a chronotope resonance, to the point where he could clearly imagine the spell that once created it. Yet there was something beneath it, something he had trouble parsing. It felt like vitalic mana, but it lacked any intent that could categorize its purpose.

  “There was once a permanent portal set up here,” Aren said. “The walls must be very thick and made of some kind of isolating material. I would guess dranaite.”

  “Donnavan said it was some kind of spatial magic,” Marie spat out the words like a curse.

  Aren looked at the older man, who was crouching and investigating the room, spreading a powdered mix of crystals that would react with mana of the correct resonance. They shone in a deep gray glow. Someone who hunted necromancers should be able to do at least this much.

  “Do you have something to draw with?” Aren asked.

  Donnavan passed him a piece of charcoal, and Aren went to the middle of the room. He swiped the crystal dust out of his way and started drawing. He could figure out the formation that had been used here, yet as soon as he imagined it fully, he knew he must be wrong. Still, he persisted, finishing the six circles that made it, then rechecked them, and confirmed them once more.

  “This is wrong,” Aren said, biting his thumb.

  “What do you mean?” Mar’tei asked. She had stayed silent until now, looking confused at the formation. She could feel the unfamiliar mana but lacked the knowledge to piece together what it was.

  “This is a portal anchor formation, but if someone actually used it, they would end up dead on the other side, in a mush of flesh. That is, if they ever reached the destination. It lacks everything: stabilizing formulas, space-bend compensators, checks to see if the end-point formation is active. This should never work.”

  “Are you saying this was never used?” Marie asked.

  “No, it’s clear from the mana that it was used, many times over the last months or weeks.” Aren looked away to take in the whole room’s mana, but there was nothing new he could see. He didn’t even need to use magic. Only the chronotope magic had ever been used here, and something was stored here that contained the strange vitalic mana.

  Then he turned to the exemplar. “Can you sense if any holy power was used here? It could be foreign. Maybe they did something to influence the mana in the room, dismantle it, or warp it so no mage could fully tell what they did.”

  “No,” Marie stated firmly. “I checked before bringing you here.”

  “I see,” Aren said, closing his eyes. “If we had the crystal they used to resonate with the destination, we could try to activate it and track where it led, at least. But like this, there is not much else we can do. Did the shopkeep know anything?”

  “No, we found this because he was found dead,” Donnavan informed him.

  “Then the only other clue is the weird vitalic mana that lingers here,” Aren said.

  “Weird?” Marie prodded, encouraging him to continue.

  “It’s… formless. Usually it’s either life-giving or life-taking, but here it’s inert, it has no intent,” Aren said. “As far as I know, that should be impossible. It’s like fire that holds no heat. All I can tell is that it wasn’t the result of a spell. Something was stored here that emanated from it. If the smell is anything to go by, it could be dead flesh, but that would create negative vitalic resonance, not… whatever this is.”

  “Then this is a dead end too,” Marie said.

  “If you let me use magic, I could design a spell to detect this vitalic mana,” Aren proposed.

  Marie looked at him, considering the option, but shook her head. “You would trigger every magic detector in the city if you did. If they moved it through the streets, it would have been detected if it emitted mana as you say. Whatever was here must have never left this room through the ladder.”

  Aren decided to trust her on that. “Then there is nothing else here.”

  The exemplar nodded. “We will return to the temple then. We need to start preparing for the closing of the festival at noon.”

  Aren did not return to sleep, for the sun was already rising when he came back to the temple. Instead, he spent the time before morning prayer consulting ideas for the punishment of the three soldiers. He learned that it would be highly unusual for anyone to propose the path Kron had outlined for him, the Sun’s Suppliant’s pilgrimage, as it was called.

  Despite that, one elder priest told him it would be fitting, since he was a foreigner and neither knew their laws nor lived under them. It would be respectful of their tradition and of the sinners themselves. He, who knew nothing of the One Sun’s radiance, should leave the punishment to the one judge who could make no mistake. It would not be him deciding what the right punishment was, so no one could claim he had put himself above the Sun’s wisdom either.

  That led him to propose the punishment to Marie, who, despite being busy with the preparations, heard him out and, to his surprise, agreed with him. She did look surprised at him when he told her he had spoken with other priests about it.

  After the morning prayer, he found himself standing guard in the plaza. His role was to check for any sources of magic in the gathering crowds. While it was still early morning, it was already becoming hot, but somehow it did not bother him as much anymore. He was still getting sweaty, though.

  Walking around the high plaza, he took note of the large covered structure. By now, it had truly turned gigantic. He was quite sure that if any normal person fell from the top of it, they would break every bone in their body. Still, the secrecy made him curious about what could be beneath it.

  The people were already staying nearby, securing spots as close to the center as the perimeter of guards allowed. There were two paths kept clear of people, one from the palace and another from the temple. It seemed that after six days of partying, people were more than willing to patiently wait for the final ceremony.

  Hours went by as he wandered around, sensing nothing. He took a few breaks to drink some water and cool down, but no one blamed him. He saw that Bar’tik, Wes, and Lan were stationed near the temple, keeping people from wandering beyond the temple’s main hall. He doubted they had many issues, as the people were more orderly than he thought possible, listening to the guards and not trying to force their way to a better viewing spot.

  Then Mar’tei found him.

  “Here you are,” she said, passing him a cup of water with a bit of lemon in it. “You are taking this seriously.”

  “I figured I should,” Aren said, taking the offered drink and sipping it with unhidden pleasure. “Though if I find the source of the weird vitalic mana, I will be overjoyed. The more I think about it, the more I want to study it.”

  Mar’tei chuckled at that. “I can understand the sentiment.”

  He smiled, thankful that he was stuck on this journey with at least one person he could talk to honestly about magic. He noticed she was wearing the dress she had worn on the first day and figured he should change himself.

  “I will go change,” Aren informed her, and she nodded.

  When he reached the main chamber of the temple, the procession was already gathering. He was wearing his suit with his scale armor and black shawl on top. It would be frowned upon if he dressed like this for any event in Vo’Teol, but here he was a guard, and he was not going to be caught without his armor again.

  Then it started, and he watched as Crina in her ceremonial gown stepped into the main chamber. Her white robe seemed somehow more pure than usual and the golden stole on her shoulders resonated with the accessories woven into her hair. Her eyes looked straight ahead, looked warm and gratified, a smile stretched on her smooth lips.

  He tore his gaze away and found that Marie was walking behind her in polished white armor, her green cape hanging off her shoulders as usual. She looked stern and attentive, and when she saw him, her eyes told him that he should continue looking around, not stare at them.

  He agreed and turned to continue his passage through the crowds. He gave one final glance at Crina, and their gazes met. Her smile widened a little, and he nodded to her and smiled back. Then he disappeared into the crowd.

  Soon the Governor was giving his final speech, reiterating the achievements and goodwill of the Luminous One. He mentioned that they should all be thankful to the One Sun for the lustrous festival, and then he announced something new.

  “Thanks to the Luminous One, we will restore the old artisan district and revive the craft that once thrived there. She has learned of a surviving artist from that time who agreed to lead the effort, may the light support his path. In addition, she also wishes to revitalize the local orphanage, offering the children better living conditions and assistance in finding masters willing to apprentice them.”

  Aren was glad to hear the news, although he was surprised the older man had agreed to do such a thing. He hoped the artist would be able to find peace in this task. The painting still lay in his room, he would have to store it in his artifact as soon as he could to make sure nothing happened to it.

  Then multiple men moved toward the covered structure, and the governor stepped aside, passing his place to Marie, who began to pray. Soon, the entire plaza resounded with the chorus of her voice, and the structure was revealed.

  A coiling, thick segment of white metal, joined seamlessly, climbed toward the sky. At its apex rested a giant sphere of pure gold, engraved with the symbols of the One Sun. Beneath it, supporting the sphere, rose the figure of Crina’s upper body, carved in striking detail.

  As soon as it was uncovered, every priest in the plaza was bathed in a golden glow. The sacred power surged on its own toward the sculpture, and when it flowed into it, a thick beam of light descended from the sky, striking the golden sphere directly. The gold melted slowly, droplets of the precious metal flying upward toward the Sun.

  At that moment, everyone fell to their knees, praying as the glow bathed them. A warmth spread through all who bore witness, a beautiful harmony of light reaching straight into their souls.

  Aren stopped paying attention before the light fell. He pushed through the praying believers toward what he sensed. There, barely discernible, as if hidden beneath a veil, was a man oozing the vitalic mana he had sensed earlier. He did not wait, his black band flashed with prismatic light as he channeled five sorceries at once to analyze what he was seeing.

  There was… something trying to hide the mana from him, only the faintest residues pushing through. Then, piercing it, he cursed. People stared at him in shock and outrage. The exemplar’s gaze landed on him, but he had no time to explain.

  A blob of red, mysterious energy, fueled by the empty vitalic energy, exploded. He ignored the gore and watched in horror as red mist spread. He instantly tried to use a five-circle containment spell to hold it, but it was too late for the people closest to it. By the time a blue barrier settled, the people inside had already collapsed, dissolving into more of the red mist as their life energy was consumed by it.

  He sensed a dozen more sources in the crowd, and his magic split as a blue barrier appeared around each of them just as they exploded. The red mist attacked his barriers.

  He was fighting a losing war and knew it instantly. Whatever it was, it devoured his magic and strengthened itself. It was worrying. He could contain it for a while with his magic reserves, but he needed to think of a solution. For now, with the barriers tied to his reservoir, he focused on another source of trouble he sensed.

  There, in the center of the plaza, next to the sculpture, stood a figure clad in darkness, unnoticed by all. It held a dagger but seemed to watch the scene, doing nothing, waiting for the chaos that was supposed to start. When it didn’t happen, it raised its blade and aimed at Crina.

  A red circular barrier appeared around the young woman, but he knew, from the speed the assailant moved at, that it would shatter. Marie detected the assassin too late to react, she only managed to draw her blade before it was already too late. He was glad he had chosen the spell he did. The second his barrier collapsed, it used all the contained kinetic energy to release a directed wave of white flame that set the assassin ablaze.

  The black figure jumped back, and then he saw that it was not a black figure. The darkness was neither cloth nor magic, but fur. Now singed as his flames died out, pushed aside by a fluid-like, thick, dark-blue aura, the air was filled with the smell of burning hair.

  The woman’s whiskers twitched in annoyance as she blocked an attack from the exemplar. The wave of force tripped everyone unlucky enough to be nearby. Yet the assassin took it casually, barely dipping her soles as her clawed toes supported her weight. Her cat-like legs sprang and circled the exemplar before she could react. Her speed was so great that the beast-woman was only a blur to Aren’s enhanced eyes, he was already preparing another spell.

  The governor tried to stand in the assassin’s way, but he was too slow. His blade cut through nothing but air as the beastkin swiveled around it gracefully, barely slowing for even a blink.

  He summoned a sixth-stage barrier and conjured another with his bracelet, creating a combined, all-encompassing shield of purple and white light around Crina. The short blade struck the wall of energy, and a blast of pure force lifted the nearest worshipers off their feet, throwing them into the panicking crowd. He felt his mana dip noticeably, but his protection held strong.

  Marie did not waste the chance. The golden glow around her intensified and solidified into golden armor. Then, faster than before, she slashed at the assailant’s back. Growling, the beast-woman jumped nimbly upward, barely dodging the attack. Landing on top of the barrier, she looked directly at Aren, her golden slit eyes wary. He prepared to defend himself, but instead of attacking, she turned and, with a speed nearly impossible to follow, ran north.

  Marie did not pursue, instead, she stood close to Crina’s barrier, watching the situation with a vigilant gaze. Aren cast a ward around the plaza and a large area beyond it, but he didn’t detect the beast-woman, she was either hidden or already too far away. He made sure to check for any more hidden assassins, but detecting nothing, he relaxed and focused on the original problem. Now he needed to deal with the red mist that had completely filled his barriers.

  It seemed to consume mana at an extraordinary rate, even ambient mana was not spared. If it spread, he was sure it would devour every living person in the plaza and turn them into more mist, and perhaps it could engulf the entire city.

  Then he had an idea. He turned toward his relic bracelet and created a barrier, focusing on the concept of isolating mana. Strangely, it vibrated as if responding to his intent. As soon as the purple barrier appeared, deeper in color than usual, the mist, as if on instinct, constricted, moving away from it. Within a minute, the spell, or at least what he thought was a spell, began devouring itself and collapsed, leaving no trace that it had ever existed.

  With the attack prevented, he breathed out a sigh of relief. He collected the remains of the original carriers that had exploded into a special container he pulled from his storage brooch. Their flesh still radiated the empty vitalic energy. Somehow, he did not feel excited about it. Nothing remained of the people he had failed to save.

  Then he walked toward the exemplar, who was already organizing the force to watch over the wounded civilians and clear the plaza. Upon reaching them, he dismissed the double barrier around Crina. The young woman stared at him, shock still visible in her eyes, and to his own surprise, despite the spells enhancing his mind, hugged him.